


Dynasty

by TheStrange_One



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Experimentation, Fluff, Gore, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Cursing, Multi, Mutants, My First Spideypool Fic, Superpowers, Violence, heart of gold - Freeform, inferred child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-12 17:53:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 71
Words: 82,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17472203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStrange_One/pseuds/TheStrange_One
Summary: Deadpool helps Iron Man rescue Spiderman, only to discover a whole new nest of problems.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, uh, yeah. Intro's might not be that great, just introducing things before the action starts.  
> [White Box]  
> {Yellow Box}  
> And Deadpool, so--fourth wall breaks galore.  
> The main purpose of this prologue is to introduce how the story works.

Wade fidgeted when he led Peter into the apartment. After all, he’d been daydreaming about taking Peter to his place since they first met—

[And taking him period.]

—so, of course he was nervous. He opened the door, gallantly offered Peter to go in first, and then stepped in. The place was small, dank, and oppressive. The couch looked like it could be growing anything. The floor was almost dirt. He could hear skitters in the corners.

_Hey author._

Yes Wade?

_Why is my apartment such a shit hole? I can’t bring Peter_ here _!_

Very well Wade.

The world blurs into colors and suddenly the two of them are standing in the entry of a penthouse with windows all along one wall facing Stark Tower. The place is clean and suspiciously shiny. There are guns, magazine casings, and bullet boxes on almost every flat surface. On one wall, across from a love seat, is a huge, flat screen TV.

Beside him Peter looks confused. “What—what just happened?” he asked warily.

“I don’t—look over there!” Wade suddenly pointed.

“What is it?” demanded Peter as he whirled almost too fast for a human to see.

“A distraction!” Peter rolled his eyes and relaxed as he walked further into the apartment.

Please Wade. It’s a condo. And don’t let him pick up the binoculars.

“What binoculars?” Wade turned—just as Peter picked up a pair of binoculars from the table in the tiled area near the windows. He held the binoculars to his eyes and looked out the window.

Only to jump back, slam them down so hard they broke, and smack him across the living room. “I can’t _believe_ you!” snarled Peter. He whirled and stalked out of the room.

[What just happened?]

{We didn’t even do anything…I think.}

Wade ran into the hall. “Where are you going?” he called, desperately.

“To hang up some curtains!”

“Why does he want to hang up curtains?” mutters Wade as he goes back into the apartment.

_Condo_ , Wade. It’s a _condo_. And he’s hanging up curtains because your condo happens to have a perfect view into his room.

Wade stared at the broken binoculars feeling both cheated and disgusted. Cheated, because he hadn’t actually gotten the chance to spy on Peter in his room. And disgusted because—that felt so wrong.

By the way Wade, your maid is coming tomorrow.

“I have a maid?” wondered Wade.

Yes. And try to be nice to her. She’s having a rough week.

Wade looked around at the clean condo and sighed. He went into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and saw bags and bags of takeout. Mostly burritos. He closed the door, sighed, and leaned against the fridge. “All right author,” he said. “Why am I here again?”

Wade, you asked me to write a fic for you, remember?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just another night on patrol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, writing a fourth-wall breaking character is harder than it looks. Please let me know if I'm doing all right.

Deadpool watched as Spiderman’s leg tapped to an off-beat rhythm while the hero was faced away. While he normally had no problems watching Spidey tap out while they were resting—

[He could tap us out any day.]

{Think that’s how he keeps his butt pretty?}

—he could tell something was bothering the guy. “So—anything new?” Spiderman grunts, but otherwise doesn’t reply. “Aliens, tin cans, checking out my ass like I check out yours…”

The last usually goaded a reply of some kind out of the spider. Usually a chuckle or a shift in position. This time he’s silent for a full minute before replying. “People keep following me,” he grumbled. “It’s—unnerving.”

[Must be bad. He’s opening up to us.]

{Why hasn’t he told Stark if he’s so freaked?}

“Good question. Have you told old Tin Can about the people following you?”

Spiderman stilled. “I did,” he said. Deadpool could hear the frustration in his voice. “He thinks I’m imagining it,” he spat out.

“That doesn’t make sense. You _never_ imagine things like that. Or good things, like people naked.” The suit turned to look at him, but Deadpool ignored it. “I feel certain that Old Rusty knows that. He _should_ know that. I mean, you share the same tower and everything and he _should_ have a rough idea of your abilities.”

Spiderman relaxed, slightly. “He does,” the spider informed him. “Problem is…I’m not being followed as _Spiderman_. And, well…” His voice trailed off.

Deadpool frowned. He knew—well, he _thought_ he knew—that Tony Stark, AKA Iron Man, knew that Peter Parker was Spiderman. Hell, the man had adopted him five years ago. About the same time that Spiderman started running around in his high-tech suit, so—so he _had_ to know, right?

And he should be even more worried if he _didn’t_ know that Peter was Spiderman, simply because he _was_ known as Stark’s adopted son and even if Peter was the most bland person in the universe (which he totally wasn’t, by the way), _Stark_ had more enemies than a stray dog had fleas. Seriously. The man had almost as many enemies as Deadpool himself.

“You,” the mercenary asked hesitantly, “want to come back to my place? After patrol?” After that aborted attempt to take Peter home, the two hadn’t shared a confined space together. And it had taken a week for the spider to even _talk_ to the merc, thank you very much author.

I told you not to let him pick up the binoculars.

To his surprise the spider relaxed. “Sure,” he said. “That would—that would be nice. Do you mind—if I bring some stuff? So I can stay a few days?”

Deadpool felt his heart leap. “Ab-so-lute-ly!” he yelled. He jumped up to hug Spiderman, who dodged, only for Deadpool to fall off the roof. Before he actually impacted with the ground a string of webbing caught one foot and stopped the fall before gently lowering him to the pavement below. He looked up at the arachnid who jumped lightly to the ground next to him. “I can heal,” he felt obliged to remind the hero.

“I know you can,” Spiderman retorted. “Just as I know—” He whirled, stiffened, and groaned. “That convenience store is being robbed.”

“The one with the giant green square?” Deadpool asked. “Baby boy, I know you like helping people, but trust me—” The spider was gone and he got up, cursing slightly.

Spiderman helped people, but aside from a few quick quips and one-liners didn’t really _talk_ to them. If he _had_ , he’d know that the night clerk at that particular location was more than capable of taking care of herself. Then again, maybe it would do Spiderman good to learn that there were people in the city who _didn’t_ need saving on a regular basis.

[Or maybe she’ll take exception to him interrupting her. You remember what happened to the last idiot to try and rob that store.]

{Yeah, let’s try to keep that perky ass from getting stabbed again.}

_It should be easier to keep him from getting stabbed_ , Deadpool thought as he made his way to the store seconds behind Spiderman. _I mean, he has that whole spidey-sense thing to tell him when bad stuff is coming_.

Deadpool reached the store, just in time to see the scene. The robber had a gun to the clerk’s head. The clerk’s eyes were narrowed, hands in her pockets, where Deadpool knew she kept her knives. The robber whipped his gun around, fired it at Spiderman (who dodged) and the clerk stabbed him in the leg before stomping on his foot, and slamming her knee into his head to knock him out. She popped her gum. “Either one of you strapping young gentlemen mind hauling this carcass out of my store before he bleeds all over my floor?”

“Oh, me! Me!” said Deadpool happily as he flung the unconscious robber over his shoulder. “And seltzer water and lemon for blood,” he added as he deposited the would-be robber on the ground outside.

“Not on tile,” drawled the clerk.

“Do you need us to call the police, or—”

“Eh, he’ll be fine.” The clerk was already getting a mop bucket. “I stabbed him in the Vastus Lateralis. If he takes it easy for a while he won’t even know he was stabbed in a week.” She ran the mop over the few drops that had spilled, making sure to get them all up. Then she paused and pointed at Deadpool. “And I’m still not selling you beer without an ID.”

“But honey!” protested Deadpool. “You should make an exception for me!”

She snorted. “I make an exception for you every time you waltz in here with that mask on and I don’t call the police.”

“Speaking of the police—”

“Honey, trust me,” the clerk said as she wheeled the bucket back to a corner. “They have enough problems. And I can’t get hazard pay,” she added. “I’ve tried.”

[The confused look on his face is precious.]

{We can’t see it through the mask, idiot.}

[But I bet it looks precious.]

“So, let’s go see if there’s other crime we need to stop,” Deadpool said, slinging an arm around Spiderman’s shoulders.

“Feel free to come back,” the clerk called. “As long as you’re not trying to buy anything age restricted,” she added.

“Aw, Cheery _loves_ it when people visit the store,” Deadpool said as he pulled Spiderman out of it. The robber was, conveniently, already gone.

“You know some weird people DP,” Spiderman said. “All right,” he said cocking his head. “Bank robbery four streets down.”

“ _That_ one we should stop.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter moves, just for a few days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is from Peter's perspective, because he's easier to write than Wade. And I need to be able to slip into his POV later. Hoping I can keep it between Peter and Wade--might slip in something from Tony or Bruce. Not sure.

“Because it’s not like _you_ believe me!” snarled Peter. He threw the duffel bag over his shoulder and glared at his adopted parent. He hadn’t bothered trying to time his exit for when Tony wasn’t home—because he knew the confrontation would happen anyway. He’d rather go ahead and get it over with.

Tony rubbed his face. “We’ve been through this, Peter. Your senses are just in overdrive after all that shit this summer.”

“If that was it,” fumed Peter, “then _why_ is it _only_ when I’m Peter?” He glared, knowing the older man had no answer for him. He nodded, once, firmly. “So, I’m changing my routine for a few days.”

“Peter—”

“If it _is_ ,” Peter continued firmly, “just my senses in overdrive, then a change in scenery might help them settle down.” He sighed and ran his own hand over his face.

“Peter, that man is insane.”

“True.” Peter saw no point in arguing the obvious; Wade _was_ insane. Normal people didn’t talk to voices in their heads. “But he’s also vigilant, protective—”

“Peter—”

“And he’d never hurt me,” Peter finished firmly glaring at Tony. Peter hadn’t told Tony what Wade had told him about the voices—because Tony didn’t need to know. He didn’t need to know how the person most put at risk _was_ Deadpool. And anyone in the vicinity with a gun, but Peter didn’t carry guns.

Pepper appeared behind Tony and hugged him. She leaned around the man mouthed at Peter, “Go.” Then she turned to Tony. “Listen,” she told him firmly, “he’s not running away. He’s trying to get things done in his own mind. Let him go.”

Peter didn’t stay to hear Tony’s reply, taking her Pepper’s advice and leaving. Besides, it wasn’t like he was going far. Wade literally lived across the street. He’d still have plenty of time to get to work in the morning—even if he wasn’t entirely sure why his adopted father insisted on living over his labs. Actually, he wasn’t sure why Wade lived in a condo. Back when they met on patrol he’d been pretty sure the mercenary would be the crappy room, can’t afford to care kind of guy.

The doorman nodded and let Peter in when he made it across the street. Peter thanked him and then took the stairs to Wade’s floor. After getting trapped in an elevator with weird plant-dog hybrids trying to tear him apart during the summer, he didn’t really like elevators that much. Besides, there was nothing wrong with the stairs.

Peter winced when he heard a loud crash from inside the condo. “What?” he heard Wade ask. He paused, wondering if Wade had company when he heard the mercenary answer himself. “No, I don’t know why that vase was there. Why do I even have a vase? What do you mean, ‘that’s what the maid is for’?”

Peter relaxed. Wade was as alone as he ever got, and he reached up and knocked. In far too short a time the door opened showing a frazzled Wade, scars and all, wearing an apron and holding a broom. “Hi Wade,” Peter said cheerfully as he showed himself in.

“Er—um—hi?” asked Wade. “Shut up, of course he knows he’s welcome. _No_ , I am not asking what colors his curtains are!”

“Hi White,” Peter said comfortably as he walked into the living room. “Hi Yellow.” He looked at the mess on the floor. A large pottery vase with blue and white print on it was in pieces on the hardwood. “What happened?” he asked curiously.

“Not sure,” Wade said with a frown. “I was walking to the kitchen—going to make pancakes—and suddenly poof! Broken vase on the floor, keep your shoes on.” He growled. “I know he has healing factor, but it’s shit compared to mine!”

Peter would be lying if he said he hadn’t found the mercenary a bit unnerving the first few times they met. Still, despite all his odd quirks, Wade was a good guy. And Peter liked him.

“I’ve got two spare rooms—author’s orders—and you can pick whichever room makes you feel comfortable. Or you could bunk on the couch, or in my room, or—whatever,” concluded Wade lamely.

Peter looked up from the mess at the floor to see Wade shifting slightly from foot to foot and carefully _not looking_ at Peter. He’s also not wearing his mask and Peter’s lips can’t help but twitch up at the sides. “Are you nervous?” he asked.

Wade shuffled forwards wearing huge pink, fluffy unicorn slippers. “Just a bit,” admitted the mercenary. He rubbed a hand over his scarred head. “I don’t—you’re the first person here,” he added.

He watched the nervous man for a moment. “Wade,” he asked, “are you okay with me staying here for a few days? Because if you’re not—”

“What? Of _course_ I’m okay with it, I’m just—shut up! I’m not _asking_ that!”

Sometimes Peter was really glad he didn’t have to hear the voices in Wade’s head. Honestly, it was amazing the merc was as well adjusted as he was, all things considered. “All right,” said Peter as he grabbed the broom and dustpan from his crazy friend. “I’ll get the mess, you get pancakes.” He grinned. “Your pancakes are the best.”

Wade stared at him for a moment, blinking as if he was about to cry. Then: “Hell yeah, they’re the best!” he roared before lunging towards the kitchen.

Peter didn’t even lose his grin when he saw the pancakes were all in the shapes of dicks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions, comments or concerns?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade has a talk with Pepper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodness, Wade is tiring to write for.

Peter didn’t like Wade walking him to work (that whole thing with Stark wanting his ass on a pike)—

[Been there, done that. Wasn’t much fun.]

{You’d think, as smart as he is, Stark would come up with something new.}

“He can’t be that smart,” Wade commented softly as he watched Peter walk across the street. His eyes narrowed as he saw Peter twitch away from a pedestrian on the sidewalk. “He hasn’t realized something is wrong.”

And something was, indeed, very wrong. Sure, he expected lil’ Petey boy to be twitchy on the street—the spider had, in fact, told him he was being followed—but Peter was still twitching  _after_ he entered the lobby of Stark Tower.  _Peter didn’t feel safe in the tower_ . And Stark seemed to think the kid was fine.

[For a smart guy, he sure is stupid.]

Wade could only nod in agreement. He was shocked to realize that Peter felt safer with  _Wade_ (with all the craziness that only happened with him around) than he did  _at home_ in a state of the art, almost completely automated tower with a private security force that was  _almost_ a private army.  All the smart money said that Peter would be safer in the tower—but his instincts were never  _wrong_ .

Wade had seen the little bug—

[He hates it when we call him that.]

{We should call him that more! He’s cute when he’s angry!}

—react to what seemed like nothing, only to have either bullets fly by, or an explosion, or that one time someone tried to drop a freaking vat of acid on the two of them—so he believed in the spidey-sense. He wasn’t sure why Stark didn’t, maybe the guy hadn’t actually worked with the spider enough to tell, but in Deadpool’s experience, the spidey-sense was never wrong. He didn’t have enough information.

[Indeed. We must learn his three sizes.]

{Or at least if the author gave us the ability to cook more than pancakes. No matter how much he likes them he’ll get sick of pancakes if that’s  _all_ we serve him.}

Ignoring the boxes Wade decides to make a house call on old Iron Head himself.  What was the best way to make an entrance?

Thirty minutes later  in full suit he slammed through the glass window carrying a large breakfast pizza. “Lucy!” he trilled, “I’m home!”

Pepper Potts, Tony’s fiance/secretary, sighed. “I was wondering when you’d show up,” she said. Little robots swung into action sweeping up the shattered glass and repairing the broken window.

Wade paused. He hadn’t  _intended_ to be speaking with Pepper—but she was probably the better choice. “ I brought pizza,” Wade said holding out the box.

“And smashed through the window,” commented Pepper. She took the box from him and carefully tipped it so that the broken glass slid of the cardboard and into the trashcan on the back of one of the little robots cleaning up. “Tony’s not here,” she added.

“Oh—can I steal one of these? Glass keeps breaking in my home,” Wade said looking at the little things.

[You’d have to fire the maid.]

{The author’s right; she’s having a rough month.}

“They only work here because of Friday,” Pepper said calmly as she took the box to the kitchen. Wade followed. “I assume you’re here to talk about Peter.”

[Is she psychic?]

{Wrong franchise, moron.}

Maybe. I’ll consider it.

“Consider what?” When Pepper looked at him he shifted nervously. He’d gotten so used to Peter just _accepting_ the voices in his head that he sometimes forgot other people couldn't hear them. “Why do you think I’m here about Peter?”

The redhead rolled her green eyes. “Why  _else_ would you be here? And yes,” she added firmly, “I know that you timed that entrance for the sole purpose of pissing Tony off. I swear,” she added as she put the box on the counter, “that all you supers are nothing more than a bunch of testosterone fueled kids fighting over who gets to play in the sandbox.”

Wow. Pepper was a force of nature. “So—um, yeah. Okay. So, I had a question for the Rusty Can, but you’ll work.”

Pepper leans against the counter, arms folded over her chest as a ginger brow raises eloquently. “Oh?” she asked.

“Why isn’t he taking the spidey-sense seriously?”

Pepper sighed and rubbed her face with her hands. “ During the summer this idiot ‘genius’ created a group of odd creatures that were part plant, machine, and mastiff. They were also aggressive, got loose, and to make a long story short there was a point where Spiderman was trapped in an elevator shaft with those things in the elevator below him and coming down  _at_ him. Bruce and Tony think he’s merely having a delayed reaction to the stress.”

Deadpool was quick to seize on the opening. “But you don’t,” he said.

Pepper gives a grim, tight smile. “I have access to every level of this tower,” she told him. “I’ve  _seen_ Peter in every level of this tower and the only places he seems to feel safe are the ones where  _no one_ from the general public is allowed.” She watches Deadpool and adds, “It feels strange to me that, for a supposedly delayed reaction to the stress, he’s only having it where the general public are.”

“And he feels safer with me than in his own home.”

“He loves you.”

Wade freezes, completely still.

[That came out of nowhere.]

{Quick! A distraction!}

Wade waved, ran, and jumped out of the window that was being repaired to plummet to the ground below.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another day at the lab.

 

“So, Deadpool threw himself off the top of the building again,” Natalia, a friend of Dr. Banner, said as Peter helped input the experiment data. The woman handed Dr. Banner a mug of coffee as she leaned against a wall.

Dr. Banner sighed and rubbed the back of his head. “I told Tony to put a permanent soft landing pad there,” he said.

“And what did Tony say?” asked Natalia, humor clear in her voice.

“He said he didn’t want to encourage the mad man.”

Peter listened to the two of them fondly debate Deadpool’s tendency to kill himself and wondered if he was the only person who thought the way Wade was so careless with his own life was bad. It was as if everyone shared the opinion that it didn’t matter how many times Deadpool died since he couldn’t actually die—including Deadpool.

_I wish that idiot would wait until we’re together to pull stunts like that so I can catch him_ , Peter thought. He still remembered how, back when they’d first started fighting crime together, how touched he’d been when he’d realized how much Deadpool trusted him to make sure he  _didn’t die_ . He also remembered how pissed he was when he realized that Deadpool just didn’t care if he died.

“What do you think Peter?” asked Dr. Banner.

Knowing better than to mouth of what he was  _really_ thinking, Peter pointed to the petri dishes. “I think we’re going to have to scrap the  current solution we’re working on,” he said. “Three out of four samples died, and I don’t like the color of the last one.”

“Hm.” Dr. Banner got up and looked at the dishes over Peter’s shoulder. “You’re right. We’d better cancel this iteration and try the next one.”

“Yes, Doctor,” Peter said amiably as he continued.

“Peter,” asked Natalia as he worked, “have you ever thought about branching out into another subject?”

“Nat, if you’re going to headhunt the best lab assistant I’ve ever had I’m going to have to ask you leave.”

“But he’d be perfect!”

“Now, Nat!” said Dr. Banner firmly as he gripped her shoulder and gently steered her out of the lab.

Natalia leaned around him. “See you later Peter!” she trilled before walking off.

Dr. Banner leaned his head against the cool glass of the door. “That woman is going to be the death of me.”

Peter grinned at him. “Tony says the same thing about Pepper.”

Dr. Banner looked at him, bushy eyebrows almost at his hair line. “Now that  _is_ a scary thought. Let’s see if we can figure out where the solution went wrong,” he added.

The rest of the day was spent cross checking with previous solutions to see if they could figure out what kept killing the samples.  The end of the day (after one too many late nights with the two of them absorbed over their experiments Pepper firmly put an alarm clock in the lab) caught both of them off guard. Dr. Banner, his skin shifting slightly green slammed the clock—into pieces. He winced and then looked at Peter. “Please don’t tell Pepper I did that,” he said. “I’ll bring a new clock in tomorrow.”

Peter shrugged as he started putting things up. “I probably won’t see her tonight. I’m temporarily rooming away from the tower.”

Dr. Banner looked at Peter, frown on his face. “You’re what now?”

Peter shifted uncomfortably. “ I’m living away from the tower,” he repeated. “Temporarily,” he added, in case the doctor had missed that.

“Why are you rooming away from the tower Peter?” asked the doctor, concerned.

Peter looked away. He didn’t want to talk about it again, to explain that  _feeling_ of being watched that followed him almost everywhere in the tower. He  _especially_ didn’t want to hear Dr. Banner explain that it was all in his messed up head again.

Dr. Banner seemed to accept the implied reluctance and changed the subject. “Who are you rooming with?” he asked casually as he helped put the supplies up.

“Wade.”

“Peter—”

“No.” Peter turned, finally at the end of his patience. “I’ve heard it all before. I’ve heard he’s insane—and he is,” he admitted. “I’ve heard he’s this big, evil, murdering scum that you all say he is.”

“Peter—”

“But he’s _not_ , he’s kind, he’s wonderful, and he would never hurt me.”

“Peter—”

“And,” continued Peter ruthlessly, “I feel safer at his place than I do here!” He got up, took off the lab coat, grabbed his bag, and stalked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are people still reading this?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepper gets upset.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, I know it's a short chapter and (maybe) the last chapter of the night. But I hope you enjoy it anyway.

“I think we might have made a grave miscalculation,” Bruce told Tony as Pepper reheated the pizza she never said that Deadpool delivered.

“Really?” drawled Pepper dryly. “What was your first clue?”

They both ignored her. She had been quite vocal in her disagreement in how they were treating Peter, and they’d started tuning her out.  It upset her—but she’d get even. And the longer it went on, the worse Tony would pay for it.

“What are you talking about?” Tony asked, looking up from the financial reports of the company with a frown. He was certain that someone was embezzling and he was trying to find out why before (maybe) involving the authorities. Depending on the circumstances, Tony may or may not handle the embezzling himself.

“Peter doesn’t feel safe here,” Bruce informed the other man.

“Wonder why that is,” muttered Pepper as she pulled out glasses for drinks. No alcohol, not after Tony’s—incident. Grape juice, she decided. 

“Of course he’s safe here,” protested Tony as Pepper rolled her eyes.

“He feels safer with Wade.”

“Why would he feel safer with that insane—”

Pepper slammed the tray with the glasses and the large bottle of juice on the table, startling both men. She glared at them. It had gone on long  _enough_ . “Maybe,” she said through grit teeth, “ he feels safer with the mercenary because the two  _father figures_ he has in is his life has just told him that it’s all in his head and he needs to get over it.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Tony protested as he got up to help Pepper carry the food into the dining room where Bruce was sitting, looking uncomfortable.

“Well, that’s what he heard. I _did_ mention it at the time,” she added acidly. 

“He’s a smart boy—”

“That you dismissed!” She glared at Bruce as well, including him in the conversation. “That _both_ of you dismissed!” She folded her arms across her chest as she glared at Tony. “Did you even _bother_ asking him _where_ he was feeling watched?”

“Ah, no, well—”

She turned to Bruce. “Did  _you_ think to wonder why, when he was trapped in an elevator shaft in a nearly deserted building he was having trouble with  _people_ ?” she demanded.

Bruce was clearly taken aback, and he paused and thought about it. “Well, no,” he admitted.

“Of course not. Both of you idiots simply _assumed_ Peter was stressed. Well, _I’ve_ been paying attention, and I’ll tell you where he’s stressed—he’s stressed on every floor of this tower that’s open to the general public, _that’s_ where he’s stressed!” Pepper stopped and took a deep breath as the two of them stared at her before she whirled and stomped off to the kitchen.

“She’ll be back,” Tony said confidently to Bruce. She heard him take a bite of the pizza. Heard him start choking on all the hot sauce.

Pepper came back and smiled sweetly at the spluttering man as he groped desperately for his drink to sooth the burning in his mouth and throat. “By the way,” she added in as sweet and calm a voice as possible, “Deadpool delivered the pizza this morning.” She turned and made her way to her room. She didn’t want to be in the same room as those two  _geniuses_ who didn’t seem to have two brain cells to bang together!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter vents about his day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feels.

Wade watched Peter roll the corn flour tortillas over the filling before lining them in the pan. “I didn’t know you could cook,” he said as he walked into the room.

[He’s not wearing an apron. He could get burned!]

{He’s not using heat right now, idiot.}

Peter hummed as he placed another in the pan. “I like chemistry,” he said as he  started filling another tortilla. “And cooking is like chemistry you can eat, so…”

[Is he sad? He looks sad.]

{You should ask him what’s wrong.}

“Long day at work?” asked Wade. He didn’t really _know_ what Peter did at work, but it seemed like a good question ask.

“No. Yes. Maybe?” Peter sighed, rolled up the last tortilla, and started slathering them with homemade sauce. A little too vigerously; some of the sauce ended up splashing on the counter.

“What happened?” asked Wade as he got a towl.

Peter, abnormally for him,  ignores the red mess as he angrily grabs a bag of cheese. “It started out normal enough,” he said as he sprinkled cheese on top of the mess he’d made in the pan. “ The most recent samples died again.”

That—that sounded bad. “I’m sorry,” Wade said, trying to offer comfort.

Peter shot him a glare. “The samples have been dying for  _weeks_ Wade. It’s normal at this stage of research.” He pulled out the alluminum foil, ripped off a piece, and then tucked it around the pan. “What  _isn’t_ normal,” he growled as he opened the oven (which had three other pans just like the one Peter was adding to it), “is hearing, in the middle of the morning, how a certain someone decided to jump off the tower roof again.”

_Oh…_

[He knows we can’t die, right?]

“Peter,” he said gently, “I can’t die.”

Peter whirled and glared at him, eyes red. “That,” he ground out, “is not. The. Point. Wade.” He spat out. “You jumped!”

“Peter—”

“You jumped,” ranted Peter, “ _and I wasn’t there to catch you_!”

[Give him a hug.]

{Um, no. He’ll break our arms. Have you forgotten how strong he is?}

Give him a hug Wade.

Wade reached out and tentatively, gently, pulled Peter into a hug. “It is one thing,” Peter said as he gripped the shirt with a hand, “for you to pull that shit on patrol  _when I’m there_ , and quite another to not even know it’s happening until people start to gossip about it!”

“I’m sorry Baby Boy,” Wade said as he gently rubbed Peter’s back. Gently, because as Yellow pointed out, Peter could easily break Wade’s arms. “It was important.”

“Important,” intoned Peter flatly.

Wade nodded. “Super important.”

“What was it for?” Peter looked up at Wade, relaxing slightly. 

“Well,” said Wade, “I went to yell at Tin Can, and took him a hot sauce pizza.” Peter nodded. This was not new behavior for Wade. Tony had instituted a rule stating that all food from Deadpool should be banned from the Tower. “Tin Can wasn’t there, but Pepper was. She told me Tin Can is an unobservant ass.”

Peter smiled. He could easily picture Pepper, in her ever-present black dress (because it’s suitable for all occasions), ranting about Tony with a dismissive wave of her hand. If she was really mad at him, she saved the pizza and served it to him for dinner.

“Then she told me you love me and I really needed a distraction so I jumped from the window.” Wade paused for a breath. “Do you love me?” he asked, tentatively.

Peter looked up at Wade. “Depends. Are you going to jump out the window?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deadpool goes to yell at Iron Man and Spiderman vanishes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so--last chapter before bed. Have a good day everybody, hope you enjoy, comment. Please comment.

There were a few tense moments where Deadpool had to try really hard not to jump out the window—and the end result was that he and Peter were still in separate beds, and separate rooms. 

[And just how long is that going to last?]

{True, anyone would be grateful to be with him. Lighten up.}

Guys, stop it. Let the plot progress.

Wade sighed and rubbed his head as he tried to make the voices  _shut up_ for five minutes so he could think. Was that really too much to ask?

[Definitely.]

{We’re part of you, you know.}

He sighed again as the author, for whatever reason, declined to comment. He felt certain she could make the voices shut up—but she was also part of the problem.  Now, on to the problem of Peter. Since he was about to go out for patrol, Wade would take the moment to go to the Tower to confront the dimwits who weren’t taking him seriously.

_Author_ .

Yes Wade.

_This plot point makes no sense. I know Spidey’s being followed, I know his senses are tingling, and I_ let him patrol _alone? That’s so stupid._

It isn’t  _Spiderman_ that’s being followed; it’s  _Peter_ .

_Are you kidding me? In this day and age Spiderman doesn’t_ need _to be followed—_

Wade, you _will_ go to Stark Tower, meet and argue with the others, and allow this plot point to happen.

_It’s a stupid plot point! Why would I?_

Because if you don’t, I will change the theme of this story to have you burned to ashes that are then packed in a vacuum-sealed container that you can’t regenerate your way out of.

_You wouldn't do that! You want to give this story a happy ending!_

I can have Peter rescue you and _that_ be the happy ending. He’s easier to write anyway.

_Ha! I read the summary! You can’t do that!_

I can  _change_ the  summary . That’s part of being the author. I can  _edit_ .

_Oh._

And if you don’t stop being difficult I will edit you right out of this story!

_Still a stupid plot point_ .

Wade turned to where Peter was donning his Spiderman costume (out of sight of the windows). “Peter, I want to go and yell at your dad some more. Are you good to patrol alone?”

Peter rolled his eyes before attempting to slick back his hair for the mask. “It’s not  _Spiderman_ that’s being followed,” he said.

That’s what I said.

“It’s _Peter_ ,” Peter continued. “I’ll be fine. Besides,” he added as he put the hood on, “this suit has a tracking device built into it. Tony built it.”

Wade snorted. “You have no idea,” he said as he slammed a gun into his ankle holster, “how little faith I have in that.” The two of them split up, Spiderman to his patrol and Deadpool to drop in on the Iron Bucket. Through the exact same window as earlier. 

Tony, Natalia, and Bruce were all in the room. Tony was, for some strange reason, drinking a tall glass of milk and wincing at the taste. “Ah, Deadpool,” Tony said before downing another swallow. “So good of you to join us.”

“You seem calm,” Deadpool commented blandly.

Bruce snorted. “You should have seen him after he ate the pizza,” he said. “If it’s still burning, you need more milk,” he told the billionaire.

“Pepper gave you the pizza?”

Tony snorts and little dribbles of milk fall from his nose. “Pepper,” he said firmly, “has a temper. I may have been—upsetting her.”

“Sir,” the female computer voice of Friday said, “Ms. Potts would like me to take a moment to remind you that you have dinner scheduled with her and her mother tomorrow night.”

[Ouch. Dinner with the soon-to-be mother-in-law.]

{Pepper must have been pissed.}

“Oh, they’re _both_ going to yell at you!” gloated Deadpool. “So—what are they yelling at you about?”

Bruce sighed. “We didn’t give Peter’s concerns the attention they needed.”

“No shit Sherlock.”

“Mr. Stark,” Friday’s voice said.

“Not now,” growled Tony.

The robotic voice continued. “The Spiderman suit tracking device has stopped transmitting.”

Wade heaved a dramatic sigh into the silence. “Is anyone  _surprised_ ?” he demanded. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade has a conference with the author.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the fourth wall is completely shattered--sort of--in this chapter.

 

Wade blinked in the bright sunlight as he sat at the wrought iron table in front of a cafe. He looked at the young woman in front of him who was ordering from their waitress. “A triple chocolate cherry hot chocolate, please,” the young woman said as she handed her menu to the waitress. “With extra cream.”

“Sure thing,” the waitress said, tucking the menu into her apron pocket before scurrying into the store. 

“That’s a dear,” said the young woman with satisfaction. She turned to Wade and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see why you’re so confused,” she told him. “You wanted to speak to me, face to face, and I made it happen.”

“I, ah—I don’t normally get that level of cooperation from my authors,” Wade admitted. He waited for either White or Yellow to chime in. They didn’t.

“Don’t bother waiting for them,” the young woman commented as the waitress hurried out. “Perfect,” she purred as she handed the waitress a bill. “And Dear?” she said. The waitress turned to look at her. “Don’t take the bus home tonight; the subway’s safer.” The waitress, looking confused, nodded and went back into the cafe.

“You are a strange one,” Wade said.

She smiled. “Indeed.” She took a sip of her hot chocolate and sighed. “Divine. Back to what I was saying—you wanted a space where you had less voices in your head. I made it.”  She took another sip of her hot chocolate. “The perfect ratio of cherry to chocolate—you have no idea how rare that is.”

Wade was silent for a moment. If this  _was_ an author space, then nothing in here would affect the world he was living in. He looked at the author. “I need to know where Spiderman is. Yeah, I know,” he hastily added, “Tin Can and all the Oz friends can figure it out, but that will take too long.”

“Yes it will.” The young woman put the cup on the table as she looked at him. “Have you considered how you’re going to keep living in this world if you just _magically_ show up with the location?”

“I—wait, you’re just going to tell me? Just like that?” Wade had expected more—resistance, especially considering how stubborn this particular author was.

“No, you’re going to wake up with the knowledge. That doesn’t answer my question; the others are already slightly suspicious of you, and Tony doesn’t like you at all. You just _magically_ have the answers, and they’re going to think that _you_ had something to do with him getting kidnapped.”

“I would never—”

“I am more than aware.” She took another sip of her hot chocolate. 

Wade felt frustration bubbling up inside him. This—this  _author_ was all that stood between him and making sure that  Spiderman was fine. “You’re the author!” he growled. “Figure something out!”

She said nothing for a moment as she took another sip of her hot chocolate. “Very well,” she said. She held up a finger. “But I  _warn_ you, it will the be last time I take direct action in this. As much as I’m enjoying this story, I’m not a part of it.”

“I don’t care!” Wade throws up his hands and he whirls to stalk off. “Just take care of it!”

As soon as he’s a few feet away the world fizzles and dissolves, planting him on his feet, in front of Stark Tower. From the looks of things, he hasn’t been gone very long, and the author is right. The knowledge of where Spidey is is in his brain.

[You’re going to need backup.]

{Like, what if he’s extra hurt and needs a doctor? At the least we should let Banner know.}

Deadpool sighed and went back into the Tower.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iron Man and friends get motivated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, short chapter, and the last before work. The next one will start off from Peter's perspective, and switch back over into Deadpool's.

After arguing with Deadpool for five minutes the mercenary growled, threw his hands in the air, and stalked out of the room. “I’m surprised he didn’t go through the window,” Tony said absently as he finished his milk. 

Bruce sighed, opened his mouth to speak—

And wind flew through the entire space scattering papers and knocking over lightweight decorations. In the center of the wind was a bright, oval light and from that light stepped—what appeared to be just a normal young woman. As soon as she was through the wind died down and her cold gaze swept through Bruce, Tony, and Pepper.

“That was an entrance,” Tony said wryly.

The young woman sighed as Bruce studied her. “Forgive me for saying this,” Bruce said  slowly, “but, ah, do you know us?”

The young woman smiled tightly. “Of course I know you, Dr. Banner, and your other half. Of course I know you Tony Stark, and Iron Man. Of course I know you, Pepper Potts, the sole voice of reason in this room. And  _of course_ I know Deadpool who waltzed into my home at three in the morning screaming the Mr. Roger’s theme song!”

She took a deep breath and then looked at the people in the room. “Listen,” she said. “I  _did not_ just spend however long it took to locate that human spider just to have the people he needs to rescue it waste time bickering about it.”

“Well, it’s not like Deadpool would _say_ how he knew,” said Tony.

She pinned him with a glare. “Of  _course_ not.  _You_ might not know the complete and utter Hell I can unleash upon you, but  _he_ is very much aware of it.”

“You scare Deadpool?” asked Banner warily.

“Not enough,” growled the young woman. “Not enough for him to avoid shrieking a theme song at me for _hours_ to make me do whatever the Hell he wants so that he’ll just leave me alone.”

She took a step towards them. “And I,” she continued grimly, “am  _not_ dealing with this again! I am leaving it to all of  _you_ ,” she snarled, “to make sure it doesn’t happen again!” The wind and the light returned and she stalked off into it.

When the last of the wind had died down, leaving the people in the room staring at the empty space and the little cleaning robots scurrying around to clean the mess, Tony sighed. “All right people, suit up.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spiderman gets rescued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I want you to note that there is inferred child abuse in this chapter. Not until the end though, and Deadpool blows something up. (Yay Deadpool!) The chapter's also just a little bit longer than what I normally post, but given the content I didn't think anyone would mind.

“You brought him _here_?” shrieked a voice, stabbing through Peter’s temples. “You _idiot_!”

“Look,” said a defensive voice, “We need a clean sample.”

“We won’t be needing anything if we’re _shut down_ ,” snarled the first voice.

Peter opened his eyes and saw a woman in a lab coat glaring at a man wearing body armor. Good body armor too, a muzzy part of his brain noticed. Sleek and almost form fitting, like that new stuff Tony was making. A quick try to get up proved his suspicions: he was strapped down. It looked like he was strapped down to a gurney of some kind.

“So, uh, anyone want to fill me in on what’s going on?” he asked dryly, not expecting an answer.

The female sighed, brought a hand to her head, and muttered, “Idiots, every last one of you. Mr. Parker,” she said firmly.

Peter’s skin crawled. He could tell that he was still wearing his suit, so there should have been no way for her to know who he was. “Parker?” he asked, trying to sound quizzical.

She made an irritated sound. “Please don’t pretend with us. We know very well what your other identity is and we are _no threat_ to you.” She emphasized the words as her left hand clutched her white coat.

“You’ll have to forgive me for finding that hard to believe,” Peter drawled. “Since, you know.” He tried to move an arm that was strapped down. He wasn’t sure what he was strapped down with, since he could break almost anything.

“I’m sorry my coworker is a moron.”

“Hey!”

“I asked him to get a fresh blood sample for our program, and he took that to mean that we needed to kidnap you.”

“And, uh, how was he _supposed_ to get the blood?” asked Peter warily.

“Please, you heroes bleed all over the city. It’s not that hard. They were supposed to be _watching_ ,” she added with a glare at the man in the armor, “for you to get into an altercation that ended up spilling blood.”

“We need the sample now,” muttered the man.

“We _don’t_ need to compromise the facility!” the woman snarled back at him. She took a deep breath, looked at Peter, and gentled her voice. “Since they brought you here _anyway_ , I’m just going to ask. Mr. Parker, may we take a small sample of your blood?”

“Am I really in a position to refuse?” asked Peter warily.

“Absolutely,” the woman said firmly. “We would never dream of pricking you with a needle without your consent, Mr. Parker.”

“Don’t want to piss of that damn mad man,” muttered the guy in body armor.

Suddenly Peter understood. The reason the woman was being so polite was not because she cared about Peter as a person, but because they were terrified of _Wade_. No wonder he always felt safer at Wade’s place—it was probably the only place these people wouldn't go.

“So, out of curiosity,” Peter asked, “if I say ‘no’, what happens?”

“We knock you out however he knocked you out in the first place, remove the transmitter inhibitor on your chest, and drop you off as close to Stark Tower as we believe is safe.” Peter looked at his chest and saw an odd black lump stuck there. “We have no intention,” the woman continued, “of antagonizing either you or any of your—associates.”

A ripple along his skin warned him a second before the wall to his right exploded and Deadpool strode in, the eyes on his suit narrowed and calmly tossing a grenade from hand to hand. “Lucy,” he called. “You got some ‘splainin’ to do!”

“Oh, shit!” swore the guy in the body armor. He swallowed hard. “How—how did you find this place?”

“Behold the powers of the author space!” roared Deadpool as he rushed forwards pulling one of his katanas. At the last minute, instead of decapitating the man, Deadpool slammed the flat of the blade against his head, knocking him down.

Pity that body armor hadn’t included a helmet, Peter thought absently as the man dropped like a load of bricks.

“Mr. Deadpool,” the woman in the lab coat said warily as she backed away from him, both hands in the air, “we have done nothing to harm him.” Apparently, while she was well aware of who _Peter_ was, Deadpool was still a mystery to them—and one they didn’t want to try to solve.

“You _kidnapped_ him!” snarled Deadpool.

“That was a miscommunication,” the woman said as she continued to back away. “We have done nothing except _talk_ to him, Mr. Deadpool.” It was clear, from the look on her face, that she was terrified.

Peter was having a little trouble caring, at the moment. “Hey, DP,” he called distracting the mercenary. “Can you give me a little help over here?” he raised what he could of his hands to wave them.

Deadpool whirled to face Peter, on the gurney. The eyes roamed over him taking in the undamaged suit, the odd black box on his chest, and the straps holding him in. Deadpool sheathed his katana. “Sure thing, Buddy,” he said cheerfully. “No,” he added to himself as he trotted over to Peter, “I don’t think he’d like to recreate this in the bedroom.”

“Hey White,” said Peter, recognizing the response.

“Hey Spiderman,” said Deadpool calmly. He reached under the gurney, twisted something—and the straps fell off. He put a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “You okay?” he asked.

“A little woozy, but fine.” Peter heard the woman running and, irritated with her, webbed her to the floor watching her fall hard to the cement. His head flipped around at the sound of jet engines.

Deadpool somehow managed to make his mask roll its eyes. “Look who _finally_ decided to show up,” he growled.

Peter raised a hand to shush him. He heard—something. What was that odd sound? It was familiar, somehow…

He carefully made his way through the place. It looked (aside from the wall Deadpool blew up) like nothing more than lobby, or maybe the public entrance of a warehouse. The floor was cement, it wasn’t that big, and there were two chairs on either side of a door.

He flipped open the door (wincing as he accidentally ripped it off its hinges) and stared. On the other side of the door is a room that looks suspiciously like an elevator, all stainless steel with tracks for the doors to shut. That’s not what grabbed his attention though. What got his attention was the little girl inside it. She was small, barely three feet tall, and had long, fluffy light brown hair. She was wearing what looked like a large dingy white nightshirt.

When he opened the door she flung herself into one of the corners and covered herself with lightly scarred arms. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’msorryI’msorry!” she shrieks, as she trembled like a leaf. As Peter stood there, she began to quietly cry.

“No, hey,” Peter said as he crouched to her level. She flinched, but he kept his voice as calm and soothing as possible. “It’s okay,” he told her. “You don’t have to be afraid.” She peeked at him with large, amber eyes, but kept her arms up, still shaking. “I’m Spiderman,” he said, to introduce himself.

“What? How dare you insinuate I’m anything less than sane?” ranted the man behind him.

“And that’s Deadpool. He’s a little—odd, but he’s a good guy too,” added Peter. Deadpool leaned on Peter’s frame and from the corner of his eye he could tell the mercenary was waving at the girl. Oddly enough, this made the girl relax a bit, and the arms came down as she watched them warily. “I just want you to know that you’re safe now,” he told her.

The girl’s eyes widened and, in a move almost too quick to be believed, reached forwards and grabbed Peter’s costumed hand with a tight, almost bone-crushing grip. “Can you save the others too?” she asked. “Make them safe?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, as always, comments are always welcome. And yes, I like the show *I Love Lucy.* It was hilarious and deserves more praise and call backs.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The heroes, and our favorite anti-hero, go into the labs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, trigger warning here. While there is no actual child abuse happening in this chapter, you can see where it *has* happened. There's a summary at the bottom if you want to skip it.

In the end it took a solid ten minutes before Tony and Peter figured out how to make the elevator work. The woman and her associate were not cooperating in the slightest—not even when Deadpool offered to “play” with them a bit, to make sure they weren’t bored. They did, however, look relieved when Peter called him over.

[She’s watching us again.]

{It’s cute! And she’s not scared of us!}

Deadpool looked over to the little girl, standing near Tony and Peter. She _was_ watching him again. Her eyes were wide and shadowed, and she was sucking her thumb. After her initial words, she’d stopped talking. She didn’t seem to be scared of Deadpool—or she was no more scared of him than she was of anything else happening around her.

“Got it!” said Tony with satisfaction.

“All right,” Spiderman said as he looked at the little girl. “Will you show us where the others are?” He held out a hand. She stared at it for a moment before she took it. “Come on ‘Pool,” he called.

“Ooo—I get to go play with the big kids!” said Deadpool as he skipped into the elevator.

“Why is he coming?” demanded Tony.

“He was here first,” Spiderman replied. The little girl looked up at him and tentatively held out a hand.

[That is so precious!]

{Seriously, what does the kid think she’s doing? Doesn’t she know we’re lethal?}

“I haven’t killed anyone! Today!” Deadpool said as he shook the hand. She looked at her hand as the elevator door closed (without taking her other thumb out of her mouth) and then gently butt him in the leg with her head.

“Good job,” Spiderman said.

“Insane…” muttered Tony. The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened.

Before anyone could leave the elevator, Spiderman stopped them. “I think we should let Deadpool go first,” he said.

“Really?”

“He’s a killer.”

“Not today. Didn’t you hear him?” Spiderman was amused. Tony was not.

“Yeah, I totally didn’t decapitate that jerk in body armor!”

Tony glared at him, but Spiderman nodded. “Seriously,” Spiderman said, “it would have been _easier_ to kill the guy. Instead, DP just knocked him out.”

[Spiderman trusts us!]

{Yeah, let’s not make him regret it. He might move out.}

Deadpool skipped out of the elevator—only to come to screeching halt. The area he was in was steel, lights flipped on at his movement to show the laboratory. There were Plexiglas confinement cells on either side of the walkway, child-sized beds with straps on them, rolling steel trays with plastic capped syringes. The people here were doing human experiments.

A man in a lab coat crossed Deadpool’s vision. “Oh, shit!” swore the man as he turned to bolt.

{[DON’T KILL HIM!]}

Deadpool pulled back at the last minute before slamming the man’s face into the concrete a third time. He thought back to the kid, to the kid’s reaction. His hand pulled back.

“Deadpool?”

Spiderman. He couldn't kill in front of Spiderman. He let go of the unconscious man and stood up. “They’re experimenting,” he growled, “on _children_.”

[Maybe we _should_ kill him.]

“Can you show us where the others are?” Spiderman asked. Deadpool turned to see that he was talking to the little girl—that he was now carrying. She nodded, still sucking her thumb, and pointed with her free hand—down the hall to a stainless steel door. The door had a card swipe lock on it (of course). “How did you get through?” Spiderman asked the child. She said nothing, eyes wider than ever, desperately sucking on her thumb.

{How has she not broken that thing yet?}

“Who cares?” asked Deadpool as he sliced through the card thing. The door shuddered as it slowly went up.

“Deadpool, you could have made that door impossible to open,” Tony scolded.

“Not with this author! She wants to move the plot along!”

Tony went through the door grumbling about how insane Deadpool was as Spiderman gently touched his arm. “You okay?” he asked quietly.

Deadpool felt his lips compress under the mask. “They’re experimenting. On _children_.” He remembered being experimented on—

[Call it what it was. Torture.]

{And we were an adult.}

“Breathe,” Spiderman advised firmly.

Deadpool took a deep shuddering breath. They walked further into the room. There were computer desks (complete with computers) all over the place. The computer were old, bulky models, as were the monitors. Not a flat screen to be seen. On one side of the room was a huge water tank that looked empty.

As they passed the tank, the child did an odd thing. She reached out and tapped the tank, four times, with the flat of her free hand. A figure rose from the tank and Deadpool stared. It looked like a partially decomposed body. The head and top part of the torso were fine, almost normal, but the rest was decaying flesh in ragged strips along the bones. The intestines swayed slightly in the currents of the tank. “So,” said the thing, shocking all of them, “you _did_ get help.”

“What—what are you?” asked Spiderman.

The lips on the thing twisted into a grimace. “I’m failed experiment 36-CA,” it said bitterly. It raised a hand and one of the finger bones fell off when it did as it pointed. “The others are trapped in there.”

 _Not for much longer_. Deadpool raced forwards, forced the door open, and stared at the little cells. There were roughly forty coffin sized Plexiglas cells that contained a bed and a toilet. About half of them also contained children of varying sizes. All of them looked terrified.

 _Author_.

Yes Wade?

_This is some fucked up shit._

Calm down, I stole them from another story. They’re better off in this one.

Deadpool looked at the children—all of them in the simple white nightgown of the one they’d met in the elevator, and raged. _This is better off?!_

Yes Wade. In _this_ story they’re being rescued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Following the girl's silent points, the three find a group of children in a human experimentation facility.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They rescue the children and Deadpool snaps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, another dark one people.
> 
> (Two in a row?)
> 
> Yeah, unusual for me, I know. And Deadpool is wearing off on me. This chapter is longer than normal and, my lovely audience, it is dark and worth every single one of those trigger tags I've got up. Know your limits people--and the fluff is coming back. This isn't a story theme; just plots. And, if it gets too much, please remember that this AU version of Wade has pink fuzzy unicorn slippers.
> 
> And, ladies and gentlemen and monsters of the internet, Spiderman is not mad (which should tell you how dark this is).

Wade heard the others arguing about the best way to handle the children as he and Spiderman went through opening the cells to let them out and Iron Man used his fancy suit to steal all the information off the hard drives of the computers. Iron Man said it would help figure out what had been done to the children so they can get help, but Wade already knows. He can see it in their shadowed eyes and the jumpy way they keep looking at the new people, expecting to be punished.

[Damn. Where are all these kids going to go?]

{They’re gonna need therapy. Oh, look at that one jump! Think _he’s_ got boxes too?}

Deadpool ignored them. He ignored everyone until the last cell door was open (even opening the empty ones, because there were some that were just _that_ good a camouflage. When he reached the end of the hall he turned—and didn’t know what to do, because all the children just _sat_ there. They were too afraid to leave.

“Hey!” called Spiderman with a wave to the kids. “Do any of you know who I am?”

A boy with curly black hair scoffed. “Of course we do,” he said looking at them. His brown eyes reminded Deadpool of something, but he wasn’t sure what it was. “You’re Spiderman.” He pointed to the girl next to Spiderman and added, “She’s supposed to take after you.”

“That’s right,” Spiderman cheered. “And that’s Deadpool,” Deadpool waved halfheartedly at the children, “and Iron Man’s in the other room. We’ve come to get you out.”

One of the girls, a petite little thing with red hair pulled her feet under her. “We can’t leave,” she protested. “We’ll be punished.”

Only Deadpool sees the glare she shoots the little girl by Spiderman, who cringes next to the hero.

The hero, who then steps towards the redhead.

And doesn’t notice at all. Doesn’t notice the little girl looking lost and abandoned. Doesn’t notice the brief smug look on the face of the redhead. Just—doesn’t notice.

Then again, Spiderman is used to seeing the good in all creatures (even evil dickheads who try to end the world on a weekly basis), so there might be a good reason that Spiderman didn’t notice.

Deadpool did. He made sure his katanas were sheathed, walked over to the little girl, and picked her up. She stared at his mask with wide eyes and, for just a moment, her breath hitched. Then she relaxed and pat him on the shoulder with her free hand. Then, as if she had to think about it, twisted slightly to the side and butted him with her head again.

[Why did she do that?]

{It’s adorable—but so _weird._ }

_Like you’d be normal if you were stuck in a place like this._ “What’s your name?” he asked.

The kid with the curly hair spoke up, as if Deadpool had been talking to him. “I’m Experiment 27-IM. She’s Experiment 14-S.” When Deadpool turned to look at him, he shrugged. “Those are the only names we’ve got.”

Iron Man stepped into the room. “This is all fascinating children. Can I get everyone’s names?”

“Experiment 25-BW.”

“Experiment 15-H.”

The kids went on. All their names started with the word, experiment. It made Deadpool sick and he had to leave. He went back to the room, still carrying the little girl, and sat on one of the desks. The kids didn’t even have real _names._ Even _he_ had a name. And why was Tin Can bothering with the names anyway?

“Row!” called a cat. Deadpool looked down at the gray cat and wondered how the sleek, well-fed thing had gotten down into the lab. It bumped its head against his leg with another mew.

The girl on Deadpool’s lap bumped her head against his shoulder and he made the connection. She was imitating a cat. This kid—child—had had so little interaction with humans that she was imitating a _cat_.

[It might not be that bad.]

{True, there are socialized children who imitate animals all the time.}

Carefully watching the girl he gently rubbed the side of her head and she leaned into it making an odd, raspy noise.

The child was trying to purr.

“Deadpool.” He turned to see that the other children were with Spiderman and the Tin Dick. “We’re heading back to the Tower; Tony called for a ride,” Spiderman continued.

Deadpool nodded, and handed the child he was carrying to Spiderman. Her eyes went wide as she stared at him for a moment, sucking her thumb. Then she gently bumped him with her head.

“I hope it’s big enough for all of us,” Deadpool commented as he looked at the mob of children.

“Well, Deadpool can always walk,” Iron Man said.

“Or,” Spiderman said firmly, “Tony can fly.”

[Shame they’re both in suits. I bet Spiderman’s glare could curdle milk.]

{It’d certainly curdle our guts.}

The group (barely) managed to fit into the elevator. Deadpool wasn’t surprised. He bet the elevator had been designed for several adults and a gurney with a child on it. So they could take the child for _experiments_.

[Stop. Keep that up and you’ll blow a gasket.]

{And probably the spider’s trust. It took a while to get that, remember?}

The elevator ride would have been unnaturally silent if it wasn’t for Spiderman talking to the scared, pale children. “So, Mr. Stark has a nice house that he’s going to let all of you stay in until we learn where you’re supposed to be.” A few of the kids shuffled nervously, but he continued. “And there’s also his fiance Pepper.” Spiderman paused and looked at Iron Man. “You did warn her, right?” he asked.

Iron Man swore and began talking to his suit as a couple of the children let out a giggle, and then cringed, as if they were waiting for punishment. Punishment. For _laughing._

Spiderman twitched, but the Tin Can didn’t even seem to notice. The elevator stopped, and the door opened. The children walked out (except for the one that Spiderman was carrying), and Deadpool noticed they were all barefoot. They were also stumbling, but it was probably the farthest most of them had ever had to walk in their pitiful little lives. Sure enough, just outside was a large van, more than big enough for all of them—even in suits.

The woman in the lab coat began talking as they walked. “You don’t want these children,” she said. “No one does. That’s why they’re here. There’s no one to miss them.” The group ignored her; she was still webbed to the ground. “Someone needs to be punished,” the woman said firmly.

Deadpool, still watching the children, saw the little girl in Spiderman’s arms flinch at the simple statement.

It was too much. He couldn't take it anymore. Before anyone could react he pulled one of his blades and cut off the woman’s head, leaving a webbed corpse.

[Spiderman is going to be so disappointed in us.]

{Yeah, were doing good on that whole no killing thing.}

“I’m—going to walk,” Deadpool said firmly.

“Wade.” He turned towards Spiderman. “See you at home.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deadpool gets pizza for the children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, fluff. Let me know what parts you like best.

[ Way to go idiot.]

{What happened to not killing anyone today?}

“She deserved it,” muttered Wade as he trudged back to the Tower. He was still sick at the thought of what those kids must have gone through—but they were in good hands. As much as he ribbed on Stark, the man would make sure the kids would be safe. Or Pepper would.

[He’s never going to trust us again.]

{Why don’t we bring him food? Used to work when we patrolled together.}

“If we do get him food,” mused Wade, “it’ll have to be enough for everyone.” Maybe some good, greasy food would help wipe away the shadowed looks on those eyes.

[Tacos?]

{I bet those kids have never had spicy food in their lives. We should go bland.}

“Pizza it is!” Fortunately, the best pizza place was on the way to the Tower—and it was his favorite worker behind the counter. “Good Morning Sunshine!” he caroled as he walked in.

The young man rolled his eyes. “Dude, my boss has been getting on to me about the hot sauce.”

“ Not to worry,” Wade said expansively. “I’m here to order fifteen—”

[Did you  _ see _ those kids?]

{What if they have high metabolisms like Peter?}

“Thirty two pizzas. An even mix between cheese and pepperoni, if you please.”

“It’ll be a couple hours.”

[Good. That’ll give Peter some time to forgive us.]

“Perfect.” Wade dropped into a booth. “I’ll be right here.”

In exactly one hour and fifteen minutes Wade paid for the pizzas, piled them high on top of each other, and continued on to the tower. 

[This is an accident waiting to happen.]

{Naw, the author wants him there with all the pizzas.}

Wade makes it to the Tower without incident (the author said so), and as he was standing outside the doors actually  opened for him. “Guess Friday couldn't see who’s behind the pizzas,” he muttered as he stepped inside. 

“Mr. Stark would like to see you in the lab,” the computer informed him.

[Wow. She knew who we were and the doors opened.]

{Where’s the lab?}

“Good question. Friday, where’s the lab?”

In answer the elevator pinged as it opened. It took a moment of desperately shifting (and in the end he had to enter the elevator in a crouch), but he got in without knocking over  _ any _ of the pizzas.

[I swear this suckers are going to fall.]

{Enough foreshadowing!}

After what seemed an insane amount of time, the elevator doors opened. The crouch thing got all the pizzas outside without knocking over any of the boxes and he took three steps into the hall—only to have a small weight barrel into him from the ceiling, knocking over all the pizzas. He looked up at the weight, to see the girl from earlier clinging to him like a burr, eyes wide and frightened. She was making small, nonverbal sounds of distress and sucking her thumb for dear life.

“Deadpool!” he turned to see Banner and Stark picking their way through the pizza boxes. (Miraculously, none of the boxes had opened to ruin the pizzas against the floor.) “Good, you caught her.”

“Caught her?” asked Deadpool warily. When he entrusted the kids to Stark, this was  _ not _ what he had imagined.

Banner leaned against the wall, wheezing. “She climbs,” he said.

“She climbs?”

“Walls, ceilings—”

{So  _ that’s _ why she dropped on us.}

“—don’t know why she freaked out,” continued the doctor.

“Because Pepper’s right,” said Peter as he calmly came towards the group. “You’re both insensitive jackasses,” he added.

“Peter!”

Peter ignored them as he walked over to Wade and the little girl, who was clinging desperately to him. “Hey,” he said gently as he pulled out two tipped cotton swabs. “It’s okay,” he said. “We just want to swab the inside of your mouth, like this.” Peter opened his mouth and ran one along the inside of it before capping it. “See? It doesn’t hurt. Will you let me do that?”

The thumb sucking slowed, and the girl looked at Peter. Then, carefully, as if she was worried he was lying to her, she took out her thumb and opened her mouth. Peter quickly swabbed the inside of it and capped it (keeping it separate from the one he took of himself). 

Wade shuffled his feet as he looked at the pizza boxes on the floor. “I brought food,” he muttered.

“These had better not be hot sauce pizzas,” growled Tony. 

Wade gasped, both hands going to his cheeks. “Me? Bring hot sauce pizzas?” Tony rolled his eyes and Wade chuckled. “Seriously Tin Can, these are for the kids. I got an even mix of cheese and pepperoni.”

Peter bent and helped Wade pick up the pizzas, the kid on his back clinging like a burr. “What happened?” Wade asked.

Peter rolled his eyes. “It didn’t occur to either of the geniuses over there that the kid might be scared of needles.” He held a stack of pizzas in one expert hand and handed the swabs to Banner. 

[He doesn’t seem mad.]

{Look at how he’s keeping all those pizzas steady!}

“Every time I forget you used to deliver pizzas you do something to remind me,” Wade said as the two of them—three of them—head to the elevator again.

Peter chuckled. “If you hadn’t ratted me out, I wouldn't have had to quit.”

“You expect me  _ not _ to scream to the world that  _ Spiderman _ delivered my pizza?” Peter rolled his eyes, but a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth and the girl on his back relaxed—slightly. She was still clinging like a burr, but  didn’t feel like she was trying to burrow through the suit. She was also still sucking her thumb noisily next to his ear.

The elevator opened to chaos. There were children screaming as they ran around and Pepper was chasing one little girl yelling, “Put that down, you’ll poke an eye out!”

“Honey, we’re ho-ome!” caroled Wade as the two of them walked in. “And I brought food!”

Pepper abandoned her chase to look at him and open her mouth. “Kid food,” Peter interrupted before she could speak. “He got pizzas for the kids.” Peter started putting the boxes down on flat surfaces and opening them so that the kids could see the food. The chaos slowed, stilled.

The children stared at the food—but none of them made a move towards it. Pepper took advantage of the silence to go into the kitchen and grab plates. “Once you have a plate you can get pizza,” she said as she started passing out plates. The children stared. The girl on Wade’s back didn’t move at all. Pepper made a slightly exasperated snort, grabbed one of the children, steered the child towards the pizza, and then put several slices on the plate. “Sit down and eat,” she ordered.

The child sat, right there, and began to eat. Pepper moved along giving the same orders to each child—and each child responded the exact same way.  Soon the only child that wasn’t eating was the one on Wade’s back.

“You know,” Wade said to the kid, “you can eat too.”

Fingers, which had released their grip, suddenly dug into his suit and the thumb sucking got more pronounced. Peter gently pried her fingers out of the leather. “Listen,” he said, “Deadpool isn’t going anywhere—”

“I’m not?”

“—and will still be here after you eat. You can eat.” The girl looked up at Peter, with wide amber eyes, still clearly frightened. Slowly, she crawled off Wade’s back and slid down the suit to his lap. Peter handed her a plate of pizza and the girl  _ inhaled _ . Wade wasn’t sure she was pausing for breath, but she didn’t seem to be choking.

“She seems to feel safe with Deadpool,” Pepper commented.

“Yeah, I think she should come home with us.”

[Wait, what?]

{Isn’t he mad about the whole killing thing earlier?}

“Is that a good idea?” asked Wade as the kid continued to eat in his lap.

“Sure it is. We have three rooms.”

[Oh, boy.]

{At least he’s not mad at us.}


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discussions ensue and beds are ordered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, short chapter. (In my defense, work was exhausting and I'm having trouble typing.) Enjoy!

Pepper moved through the room depositing blankets and pillows for the children. The blankets were easier, because she just had to let them fall on top of the sleeping child. The pillows were actually wedged under heads. All the children had fallen asleep after eating—except one.

The little girl on Deadpool’s lap kept drooping, as if she was nodding off, only to start back awake.  Deadpool himself was—stiff. He was quieter, gentler around the child, as though he was afraid to startle her. “Peter,” he said softly, “I don’t think you’ve thought this through.”

“ Of course I have,” Peter said.

Pepper turned to watch the three. The little girl kept nodding forwards, big eyes closing before jerking awake.  Every time she jerked awake her hand closed on Deadpool’s arm, only to relax as she started to nod off again.

“If she’s there she’s gonna—you know,” Deadpool said uncomfortably. He looked like he wanted to shift, but didn’t.

“It won’t be a problem,” Peter assured the mercenary.

“You don’t know that!” A pause. “No, he doesn’t!”

“Thanks for the help Yellow,” Peter said.

Pepper frowned until she remembered the voices in Deadpool’s head. She felt certain that someone had told Peter that directly acknowledging them was bad—but it looked as though he’d listened as well as he had to the advice that he stay far away from Deadpool. Personally, Pepper thought it was a good friendship.  Deadpool helped Peter loosen up and enjoy life. Peter helped keep Deadpool grounded—which was a feat in and of itself.

“She doesn’t have a  _ bed _ ,” hissed Deadpool. The girl in his lap shifted, grabbed his arm, and used it as a pillow as she laid down. Pepper guessed that she lost the fight to stay awake, but was determined to make sure that Deadpool didn’t leave without her.

That reminded Pepper—none of the children had beds. She pulled out her fancy PDA ( a gift from Tony), and made a few quick orders. Of course, Tony would be upset at the purchase of twenty-odd beds and mattresses for children—but Tony should have thought of that before deciding to take all of them home. And they couldn't stay in the Tower forever.

“It’ll be here in an hour,” she told Peter and Deadpool.

Deadpool looked at the sleeping child on his lap as Pepper covered her with a blanket. “This is a good thing,” Peter said.

“ A good thing.” Deadpool’s voice was hollow, head down looking at the child curled around his arm. “ Pete, there are a million little things a child needs, and we don’t have any of them.”

“We have the most important one.”

“What’s that?”

“Her trust.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bedtime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Average sized chapter. Hope you enjoy.

Peter couldn't help but grin at the sight of the bed being put together in the third room. It was pink, had glitter in the plastic, and was decorated with a white unicorn. He had no idea where Pepper had ordered the bed from (the numbers on Tony’s card had ensured they’d prompt and efficient service), and it fitted in with the rest of Wade’s décor perfectly.

The workmen finished putting the bed together in record time, still  glanc ing out the door. Peter knew full well that they weren’t worried about offending  _ him— _ because he’d seen the looks on their faces when they realized that the condo they were putting the bed in had  _ Deadpool _ in it. He might have been irritated about that, but given how Wade had just saved him (and the children) from evil scientists that could have been  _ way _ worse if they weren’t afraid of Wade—Peter decided to just let it be.

After they put the bed together they did something that Peter hadn’t expected; they made it. His lips twitched at the light pink sheets and cover they put on it, complete with a fluffy pillow. The two men made their way out of the room, nodded politely at Peter, and quickly head to the door of the condo.

“Good work gentlemen!” called Wade, still in his suit and still holding the child. He had, for some reason Peter couldn't fathom, but the apron on over the suit. The girl was currently drooling slightly into the straps. “Couldn’t have done better myself!” he added.

The two men froze, exchanged a look, and then bolted. Peter heard them tripping and falling several times before they reached the elevator. “That was rude,” he commented with a frown. Sure Deadpool had a reputation—but they had acted like he was holding a bomb instead of a child. “Bed’s made,” he pointed out as he stepped out of the doorway. 

Wade made a sound of satisfaction as he saw the bed and gently laid the sleeping child on it. He tried to pull back—and couldn't. “Peter, she’s stuck to my suit.”

“Yeah, probably the same way she climbed the walls earlier. Hang on.” Peter went to help only to find himself impressed.  _ He _ was able to stick to things, and did so all the time. This girl though—she was almost  _ fused _ to the suit. “We’re not getting her off. You’ll have to drop the suit.”

Wade froze and Peter wondered what the boxes were yelling in his head. He’d gotten to know Wade well enough that he could tell when they boxes were talking to him. “ She might see me.”

Peter mentally groaned. He kept his voice light, however. “She’s going to see anyway. Besides, she’s fast asleep right now.”

Wade was still frozen. “You know, this isn’t that uncomfortable a position,” he said, a little desperately. “Might, you know, be good to sleep standing up. I hear it burns all kinds of calories.”

“I think your healing factor burns more of them.  It will be fine. We’re the only ones in the apartment, and she’s not going to wake up for a while.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I saw how much she ate. Trust me—if her metabolism is anything like mine, she’ll be asleep for a good while yet.”

“But it might not be. In fact, she could wake up at any minute and I certainly wouldn’t want—”

“Wade.” The firm voice made him stop babbling and the mask turned to look at Peter. “You’re going to have nightmares tonight.” Peter took a step into the room. “You always do after—after anything that reminds you,” he said gently. Some times, when Wade had nightmares, his body acted to defend itself against a threat that wasn’t there. Peter was more than capable of defending himself, had in the past, but neither of them wanted to put the girl in that kind of danger.

“Help me with the zipper,” came the forlorn, grudging reply. Peter found the costume’s zipper and pulled it down. “This feels so wrong,” muttered Wade as he shed the suit like a skin.

“ You’ll feel better in your pajamas,” Peter murmured softly as Wade quickly pad against the carpet out of the room and closed the door behind him.  By the time he reached the room, Wade had already slipped on a pair of loose satin pajamas. Seeing this, Peter got into the bed.

The two of them had worked out a routine for when they came across something they  _ knew _ was going to give Wade nightmares.  The two of them would share the same bed, and Wade would fall asleep as close to Peter as possible. While it didn’t keep the nightmares at bay, it did help to mute them a bit—and Wade had an easier time waking up and getting out of them.

Peter waited until he knew Wade was asleep before he allowed himself to relax into his own slumber. Next thing he knew he was being shaken awake. “Petey, you don’t actually, uh, shoot webs, do you? No, of course not, or you wouldn't have those fancy shooters on your suit—and under your regular clothes. I think?”

Peter groaned and rubbed his face, feeling the faint stubble growing. Not enough for a decent beard, of course, but enough for a nuisance. “Wade, what are you talking about?”

“Come see.”

Peter groaned again, rolled out of bed, and followed Wade down the hall to the little girl’s room. Wade opened the door stepped in, and pointed. Peter looked up to see a web, just below the ceiling. A moment’s more blinking showed him a red spot in the middle of the web, and a little more adjusting to the dim light from the hall showed him that the red was Deadpool’s suit wrapped around the girl like a blanket. “Huh.” He stared for a moment.

“I came in to check on her, to make sure she was still breathing, and—I found this.” Wade trailed off looking at the child.

Peter calmly went over to the bed, picked it up (the workmen may have had trouble lifting it, but he was Spiderman), and put the bed under the girl. “If the web dissolves in a couple hours, she’ll have a soft landing,” Peter told him. He put a gentle hand back on Wade’s shoulder. “Let’s go back to bed,” he said softly.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter before work. Post more when I can, and--as promised--more fluff. :)

In the morning Wade made more pancakes than he had ever made at one time before. He knew that Peter liked the pancakes, but he had no idea if the child would.

[I hope she likes pancakes. You’ve made enough to feed an army regiment.]

{We can’t keep calling her ‘the child’ forever. She needs a name.}

Wade frowned as he flipped the pancakes over. None of them, out of respect for the child in the house, were shaped like dicks. He  _ did _ know a little bit about what children should (and a  _ lot _ about what they  _ shouldn't _ ) be exposed to. “She does need a name,” he murmured.

“You’re right about that.” Wade barely jumped when Peter came in and snatched one of the pancakes. “ I think,” Peter said after he chewed his bite, “that she should pick her own name.”

Wade blinked. It made sense; the girl probably hadn’t been able to pick much of anything in her life. “She might not know that many names,” he felt obligated to point out.

“I’ll think of something. You should probably make those the last ones and get her for breakfast,” Peter said as he started ferrying plates of pancakes to the table.

Wade froze. He wasn’t wearing his suit, was still in his pajamas—but his scars were clearly visible. Peter ignored them. He always did. Maybe—maybe the child would as well?

He went down the hall, knocked softly on the door, and opened it. He caught a glimpse of movement and looked up, to see the girl wedged into the space where the wall met the ceiling. She looked down at him, eyes wide, and the two stared at each other for a moment. “Oh, uh—I just wanted to let you know that breakfast is done.” He laughed nervously. “You can come out for it whenever you’re ready.”

The child relaxed and dropped to the bed beneath her. The bed that hadn’t, after Peter moved it, been there last night. As the girl padded out into the hall Wade peered into the room to see that the web was gone—but there were odd chips in the paint  on the wall.

“Good morning!” Wade heard Peter call as he whipped out his phone and began researching spiders. _What happens to a spider’s web in the morning?_ According to Google—spiders ate their webs.

[That’s disgusting.]

{Wonder if she’ll have room for pancakes?}

Wade frowned and went to the table as Peter served stacks at three seats. One in front of the girl, one in front of himself, and one for Wade. Peter never forgot to set one for Wade.

[Deep breath. Act normal.]

{What’s normal?}

Peter looked up with a smile. “Good morning Wade, White, Yellow,” he said.

[How does he always know when we’re talking to you?]

{Good Morning Peter.}

“Morning,” Wade said as he sat in his place. The pancakes, with chocolate chips in the shape of smiling, laughing, and goofy faces on each and every pancake, had been served with butter and syrup.

[Did we ever figure out if we can cook more than pancakes?]

{Does it matter? Peter can cook more than pancakes.}

“So,” Peter said to the child, who was eating (more slowly than the night before, but still quickly), “Wade and I were talking this morning and we both agree: you need a name.” She paused and looked at him. “I know what they called you at the—the other place, but that’s not a real name. My name’s Peter,” he continued, “and that’s Wade. He’s only Deadpool in the suit.”

The girl frowned, but continued eating as she watched Peter. It occurred to Wade that she was a lot more wary this morning than she’d been the night before—which made sense. She was in a world that was completely new and alien to her, after all.

“So, we also decided that you should pick your own name.” The girl looked up at Peter  and put her fork down. Wade noticed that she had emptied her plate.

[How big  _ is _ her stomach?]

{I think she’s still hungry. Think she knows how to ask for seconds?}

_ Probably not _ . Wade took the plate and heaped more pancakes on it before putting it back in front of her. Peter looked up in confusion until the girl dug into the second plate.

“ What do you think?” Peter asked the girl.

She paused in eating and looked at the pancakes longingly before looking up at Peter, mouth full. Her eyes were wide and wary, but not as afraid as they’d been earlier. She carefully swallowed her food while Wade and Peter waited patiently. Wade picked at his plate, too nervous to eat. “I—don’t know many names,” the child said softly. She winced, as though she was expecting to be hit.

“That’s all right,” Peter said cheerfully. “I have a program on my tablet that will let you browse through names.” The girl smiled and cut more pancakes out of the stack in front of her. “Now, about your web,” Peter continued. The girl froze, not moving a muscle. “Please spin it over your bed. That way, if you roll out in the middle of the night, you’ll land on something soft.”

The girl put her fork down and looked at Peter as if she was seeing him for the first time. Wade got the impression that she was taking her time thinking about what she was hearing. Finally she nodded.

Wade decided to bring something up on his own. “And you don’t need to eat your web in the morning,” he said. Peter shot him a look but he was focused on the girl. He gestured to the mountain of pancakes in front of her. “We’ll always feed you,” Wade continued, “so you don’t need to worry about recovering proteins or energy or anything. Just throw the old web away when you take it down.” The girl watched him for a moment before nodding and going back to her pancakes.

Peter watched the two of them for a moment. “Well,” he said, “I called in and said I wasn’t coming. I have an idea, let’s get her room furnished. You might feel more at home if you have more in your room than a bed,” he added to the girl, who chewed thoughtfully.

Wade gasped, waggled the skin that used to be an eyebrow, and said, “Let’s go shopping!”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And they go shopping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, probably the last chapter before I go to bed, hope everyone enjoys the happy stuff.

Shopping with Wade was always an experience to make someone smile—especially since he insisted on shopping as Deadpool. Well, Peter always smiled. Other people stared and whispered at the madman in the red and black leather suit literally skipping down the sidewalk as the three of them made their way to the shopping center (Peter was carrying the girl, since she had no shoes)—but he didn’t care. He rarely did in the suit.

[Author says to make sure we get peanut butter and jelly. Kids like that.]

{Wasn’t the author, you idiot. It was littleonevixen. And she said to toast it.}

“Peanut butter and jel- _ly_!” sang Wade as he twirled.

“Not until after shoes,” Peter said firmly, but with a huge grin. “And clothes.”

“Clothes and shoes!” yodeled Wade as they entered a store.

“Oh, God,” swore the clerk staring at them. “Not _you_ again!”

Wade turned to the little girl in Peter’s arms and said, “My reputation precedes me.” The girl smiled and then buried her face in Peter’s chest.

Peter ignored it and smiled at the clerk. Wade recognized it as his Warning Smile. “Hello, new here. What do you mean?”

The clerk rolled her eyes and jerked a thumb at Wade. “I mean,” she said firmly, “we don’t have those boots no matter how many times he comes in asking for them. We don’t have them, we’ve never had them, and we can’t order them. I’ve tried. For six hundred dollars, I tried. It’s just not gonna happen.”

Peter looked down and bit his lip for a moment before looking back up at the clerk. “Well, we’re here for shoes for—my niece.”

“Thank God. Come here and let’s see what your size is,” she said as she pulled out a flat measuring device and put it on the floor. Peter put the girl down and she timidly put a foot on it. “Oh, thank heaven’s child, we have _tons_ of shoes in your size. What’s your favorite color?”

The girl looked around and then pointed at a pair of pink shoes. When they left she was wearing a pair of pink glitter running shoes that had the same unicorn as the bed. They also had another two pairs of pink shoes (a spare pair of running shoes and a pair of dress shoes) before waltzing (literally) into the next store.

This clerk looked up and smiled. “Good morning Deadpool,” she said politely. “Do you need another pair of slippers?”

“Nope!” Deadpool grinned under his mask. “We need clothes for the tyke!”

“Aw! How cute!” The female clerk held out a hand to the child. “Let’s get you fitted out.”

[Isn’t it odd how _no one_ is asking where the kid came from?]

{Aw, stow it! We’re having fun! Besides, Peter’s with us.}

The girl let go of Peter only to grab Wade as they followed the clerk to the children’s section. When they left Peter was holding dozens of bags and the girl was wearing a pink, long-sleeved shirt, black jeans (wash with like colors) pink socks with white ruffles at the top, and a pair of purple and pink fairy wings generously covered in blue glitter.

“Don’t worry about the glitter,” the clerk assured them. “I know that artist—she fuses the glitter to the clothes somehow.”

“What’s more glitter?” Peter asked as they left the store and moved on to a little Mom and Pop grocery that Wade frequented.

Before Wade got more than two steps into the store one of the clerks handed him a buggy with buttermilk, flour, sugar, eggs, baking soda, and vanilla extract in it. “Saw you coming down the street,” the young man explained before wandering off to do whatever-it-is grocery clerks do.

Peter peered into the buggy. “No syrup?” he asked.

“Nah, they don’t have the real maple stuff,” Wade explained. He looked at the girl who was clutching Peter’s pants with one hand and looking around with wide eyes as she sucked on her thumb. “Do you want to ride in the cart?” he asked her. She tilted her head, clearly confused, so he picked her up and put her in the cart. Then he put one foot on the lower rack of the cart and pushed off with the other. “Whee!” he cried as he went through the store.

“Don’t break another cart!” snapped a voice from the back. “The things are expensive!”

“I bought the last three!” Wade protested. The girl was in the buggy part of the cart, leaned slightly forward, and the reflection he caught in the corner mirror showed that her eyes were partially shut while she grinned. She also had both hand out to steady her on either side of the metal cart.

[Look at that! She’s having fun!]

{Isn’t Peter around here somewhere?}

“Good question,” muttered Wade. He turned to see Peter on the phone and silently pushed the cart towards him, eager to eavesdrop.

[We’ve got to know what’s going on with him.]

{He was kidnapped what, yesterday?}

“No,” Peter said into the phone. The case creaked and Peter relaxed his grip, slightly. “I _said_ I’m not coming in today. I have things to do. Important things,” he added firmly. A pause. “And Dr. Banner is more than capable of handling it,” he said in the same firm tone. He sighed. “You’ll survive,” he told the person on the other end.

_Come on Author. Can’t you let me hear the rest of the conversation?_

No.

_Please?_

No.

_Pretty please with a cherry on top?_

Puppy dog eyes don’t work on me Wade. It’s not time for you to know yet. Do you know where the girl is?

_Sure, she’s in the—shit._ Wade groaned and looked around for the missing child. She had apparently scaled one of the shelves and was walking along the top of it in her new, pink shoes as she looked down on either side. “Hey,” he said quickly pushing off to coast the cart over to her. “What’cha doin’?”

The girl paused and looked at him. She didn’t say anything—just looked at him. Then she jumped and lightly landed on the floor before climbing back into the cart. Wade couldn't help but notice that she seemed to stick just fine to things even with her shoes on.

“Hey.” He turned to see Peter right next to him. Peter, despite his smiles earlier, looked serious.

“What’s wrong?”

“Something in the files Tony got yesterday. He wants me at the Tower ASAP.”

“Oh…”

“And I told him we’d finish shopping first.”

Wade pushed off with the cart again. “Pea- _nut_ but- _ter_ and _jelly_!” he sang.

Peter was grinning again. “Don’t forget the bread,” he advised as they made their way down the aisle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a side note, I once had a shopping experience with my mother that was almost exactly like this. She's the poster child for "Old, not up." (And obviously, she didn't dress up as Deadpool. And Dad was not amused.)


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter learns more about the children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, once again, a bit of a dark chapter here. (Sorry.) There will be mentions of child death (murder) and experimentation. The important bits (if you want to skip this chapter) are as follows: A few of the children find families, and the rest will be going to live with the X-Men (because I can).

“All right,” Peter said as he walked into Tony’s apartment in the Tower. “What was so important that you couldn't tell me over the phone?” He was not happy. He really enjoyed the days when Wade was boisterous and happy and  _ didn’t _ enjoy being called away. 

D r. Banner winced. “You’re going to want to sit down,” he advised.

“We were going through the files,” Tony said, ignoring Dr. Banner. “And—there’s no easy way to say this Peter, but the children don’t have a place to go.”

“How? They had to come from  _ somewhere _ .”

“Yes. Somewhere.”

Tony took over. “The people behind this madness paid women to be surrogate mothers. It’s not illegal, and the women in question never questioned what happened to the children.”

Dr. Banner winced. “Those women are not mother material Tony.”

Tony ignored him. “Somehow these people—and we still have no idea who they are or who this organization is working for—got hold of genetic samples of superheroes and infused the powers into fertilized eggs, which were then planted into surrogate mothers.” Tony went over to an end table that doubled as a cabinet, opened the door, and sighed as he pulled out the note reminding him that he doesn’t drink anymore. “I don’t know how they got the samples,” Tony admitted as he sat down. 

“ _Please, you heroes bleed all over the city.”_

“When I was kidnapped,” Peter said slowly, “they said something about how heroes bleed all over the city.”

Dr. Banner rubbed his head. “That would do it,” he said warily. “The samples would be contaminated, of course, but that would do it.”

“From the files,” Tony said as he dropped into a chair, “it would seem as though they had  _ particular _ problems with the one they decided to model after you.” He chuckled. “It seems they thought you really spin webs from your wrists and couldn't figure out why none of their little projects were. They added something.”

Peter remembered Wade waking him up in the middle of the night to see the girl in a web on the ceiling. “I noticed,” he said. His mind rewound the conversation. “Wait, project _ s _ , as in plural?”

“Yes. The little girl in your care is fourteenth attempt.” Tony waited for the information to sink in.

“ _She’s supposed to take after you”_

“ _She’s Experiment 14-S.”_

S—for Spiderman. “What,” asked Peter. His voice cracked and he swallowed before asking again, “What happened to the others?”

Dr. Banner winced. “You don’t want to know.”

“No,” Tony corrected, “he doesn’t want to  _ see _ . The experiments they deemed faulty were killed and dissected.”

Dr. Banner was right. Peter did want to sit. He collapsed into the nearest chair and stared vacantly as he processed the information.  He remembered the size of the facility the children had come from and couldn't help but wonder—had all of those little cells been full at one point? “How?” he asked. “How did we not know—or even hear a rumor—about any of this?”

“Because as far as the law was concerned they weren’t doing anything illegal,” Pepper said as she came into the room. She gave the three men drinks before sitting down on the arm of the chair Tony was in.

Tony took a sip of his drink and winced. “Pepper, this is ginger ale.”

“Yes it is.” She turned to Peter and explained. “Legally speaking, these children don’t exist. They weren’t born in a hospital or recorded. The— _ people _ ,” she spat, “behind this had legally purchased the property they were using. Through a shell company,” she added. “We haven’t traced it to the parent company yet. There’s no law against cleaning blood off the street, there’s no law against  _ in vitro _ fertilization, and there’s nothing to prevent someone from hiring a random person to be a surrogate in order to carry a child to term. The women who were hired were  _ paid _ , legally, and none of them were killed.” Pepper grimaced. “They were also singularly  _ incurious _ women, especially since a great deal of them were hired multiple times for this—but still, legal.”

“You can see why this is something I didn’t want to say over the phone,” Tony added.

Peter didn’t see why this was something that couldn't have waited for tomorrow. Cruel as it was—the children who had died were already dead and he would have liked to spend more time with Wade and the girl. 

The thought made him vaguely sick. What was wrong with him? And how, how were they supposed to get justice for all the stuff the children had gone through? And where were they going to  _ go _ ? 

And for one, brief moment he felt a stab of satisfaction that Deadpool had killed the woman who was apparently the lead scientist of the child murder farm.

“ What—where are the children—going to  _ go _ ?” Peter asked.

“Well, congratulations Peter,” Tony said wryly as he took a sip of ginger ale before wincing, “you’ve been married.”

“What?”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “Tony didn’t think you’d mind,” she said, clearly placing the blame on her fiance’s shoulders. “He got into the systems and, according to the papers, you and Wade have been married for six months now.”

“Because that’s the time limit for a stable marriage before you’re allowed to adopt,” Tony added. He put the glass of ginger ale down and glared at it.

“And as soon as you tell us what her name is, we’ll finalize the adoption.”

Peter stared at them. First, he had to remind himself that  _ of course _ Tony had the power to do that—because Tony was rich. Peter spent his childhood growing up with his great-aunt, and while they’d never starved, they’d also had to make do. And, also Wade was rich, something about not spending the bulk of his money from his mercenary jobs (which he’d mostly stopped taking). While he’d been living in the world for a few years—he was sometimes floored by the differences.

After a moment he sighed. “Did any of you ask Wade if he minds being legally married to me?” he asked. Sure the two of them were (now) living together,  and it  _ had _ been Wade’s suggestion—but marriage was a big step, and one he wasn’t sure the other man was ready to take.

“We were more worried about how  _ you _ would take it,” Tony admitted as Pepper rolled her eyes.

“And  _ you’re _ breaking the news,” Dr. Banner said raising his own glass of ginger ale. Unlike Tony, he was actually drinking it. 

“And what about the other children?” asked Peter. “We can’t take more than one.”

Dr. Banner sighed. “Nat and I are taking the ones that take after us,” he said.

“We’re taking the one that takes after Tony,” Pepper said. “Sorry Peter, he’s already in your old room.”

Peter shrugged. “No worries  _ there _ , I’m settled. That barely makes a dent though.”

“Well, I contacted Charles,” Tony said, “and he agreed that, as soon as we rustle up the paperwork to make the kids legal, they should be enrolled in his school.”

That made sense. It was, after all, a  _ boarding _ school—and the faculty there was more than capable of handling anything—odd—that the children could do. “All right,” said Peter as he stood up. He went to the sink, dumped the rest of his ginger ale, and rinsed the glass. “I’m off to talk to Wade.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes, I pulled the legal stuff out of my rear for the story. I'm the author; I can do that.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade tells a story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late upload. Work sucked, hate computers (every computer but mine, of course).

A fter they got home—

[Peter even called it home!]

{See that? You were worried for nothing. He loves us. Even if we  _ do _ kill people.}

_ Not as much anymore! _

Wade led the girl to her room and said she could decorate it any way she wanted. She watched him for a moment, head tilted to the side and eyes narrowed as if considering him. Then she pointed her wrist at the wall, spat a thread of spider silk, and hung a shirt on it before looking at him,  both arms loosely at her sides .

That was—not what he was expecting. “Okay,” said Wade, “but we got you those clothes to  _ wear _ . Can you get it down again, without ripping it?” She went to the wall, gave it a tug, and the shirt came off neatly. Wade grinned at her, not that she could see through the mask. “I’ll leave you to it!” he said cheerfully.

[Didn’t it occur to anyone that she’d need a dresser?]

{Why? Since she literally climb s the walls she has tons of space for her clothes!}

_ I’ll talk to Peter about it _ . Surely Peter, as a fellow wall crawler, would know if the kid actually  _ needed _ a dresser. Whether or not she did, she certainly needed toys of some kind. But what kind? She’d never been exposed to—well, much of anything aside from the bed Pepper picked out. He had no idea what she might like.

He sat on the couch. The couch, like the rest of the furniture in the living room, was rust red with dark, almost black striations through the fabric. He didn’t really like the color, especially since the rest of the living room was cream.

Wade, you frequently come home covered in blood and drop on the nearest soft surface.

_ So? _ Wade knew he was whining, but didn’t care. It’d been a long few days for him.

So, you need something that doesn’t show the stains as much. Look up, Wade.

Wade looked up to see the girl staring at him. Her eyes were wide and she was sucking her thumb again. “Um, hi,” he said nervously. “Finish your room?” She nodded.

Staring at the child Wade realized he had no idea what children really liked, or wanted. He mentally scrolled all he knew of children from movies. “Do you want something to drink?” he asked. She shook her head. “Something to eat?” Another shake. “A story?”

In an insanely quick move she was suddenly in his lap looking up at him expectantly, still sucking on her thumb. 

[Wow! She’s  _ fast _ !]

{Great job genius. Do you even  _ know _ any stories?}

“How about the time I first met Spidey?” Wade asked. The girl’s eyes widened for a moment and she nodded, thumb still in her mouth. “Once upon a time,” Wade began, since he’d heard that was how most stories started—or at least all the good ones. “I was an evil—” He paused and looked at the child. He didn’t know much about children, but cursing wasn’t good for them, was it?

[Curse too much around her and she might grow up like us.]

{No!}

“Evil man,” Wade said, editing what he’d originally been going to say. “I took jobs for—other evil men, and I—” He looked down into those wide, trusting amber eyes and knew he couldn't say it. He couldn't say that he killed people for a living. “I—uh—I made people un-alive,” he finished lamely. “ I got paid a lot for it too,” he admitted, feeling ashamed. The girl just watched him as he talked and he continued. “One day, one of the evil men came up and offered me a lot of money to kill Spiderman.” Her eyes widened and he nodded solemnly. “I know! Well, I know  _ now _ , but at the time all I knew was that Spiderman existed.  I didn’t know what a wonderful, totally awesome superhero he is!”

[Move on. You’re boring us.]

{I don’t know. I want to hear more about how great Spiderman is.}

“ So, since I couldn't—uh,  _ un-alive _ Spiderman from the city I was in—I think I was in Detroit, or Hong Kong, or something—I came to New York to meet the Amazing Spiderman Suit to Suit. And you know what?” he asked. The girl shook her head, eyes wide and clearly enthralled.  Wade threw his arms wide. “He was  _ amazing _ ! The best person I’ve ever met! I couldn’t ki—un-alive him after that, now could I?” She shook her head quickly, looking fascinated. “So, that’s what I told the evil man. He didn’t take the news well and tried to—uh, un-alive me, but I survived!” The girl gently thumped his chest a few times with her free hand.

[I think she’s clapping.]

{Weird kid.}

“Okay,” said Peter reaching over Wade.

[Hot damn! I didn’t even know he was home!]

{Can we  _ not _ ogle the cutie in front of the child?}

Peter glanced at Wade. “Be nice,” he scolded the boxes before picking the child up out of Wade’s lap. Her eyes were wide as she clung to him. “As for you,” Peter said looking at her and walking down the hall, “it’s time for you to get ready for bed. Where are those pajamas you got today?”

Wade pads down the hall after them and sees Peter freeze when he looks up at the walls. The clothes are hung like bizarre art pieces. Some are flat against the wall, showing off the whole garment, and some were hanging by a dot, wrinkling it up.

[It looks pretty good. Like one of those deco art pieces.]

{Like you know anything about art!}

“That’s enough Yellow,” Peter said firmly as he pulled a pair of long sleeved pajamas (pink, of course) off the wall. “All right, go to the bathroom and get changed,” he told the girl. She nodded grabbing the clothes from him. Peter looked up at Wade. “After we get her in bed, I need to talk to you.”

Wade felt his heart sink.

[That’s never good. I hope he’s not moving out.]

{I told you he’d be mad about the scientist lady!}

The girl returned in her pajamas. They spent far too short a time helping her finish getting ready for bed (brushing her teeth and hair, and that sort of thing) before tucking her in. Then they were in the living room. Wade braced himself for The Talk.

Usually, Peter sat next to Wade on the sofa. This time though, he’s sitting in an adjoining chair, facing Wade. “I talked to Tony, Pepper, and Dr. Banner.”

The family. Well, except for Aunt May, but she was still in the home. Excuse him,  _ assisted living facility _ where people were making sure that her super fragile bones didn’t bump into corners—or walls. Or the carpet.

“We were talking about the children.” Peter’s brow furrowed like it always did when he was thinking of something he didn’t like. He shook his head and looked at Wade again. “Anyway, Pepper and Tony did something—slightly unethical.”

Wade tried to think of what they possibly could have done that Peter would find unethical. No,  _ slightly _ unethical. He had no idea.

“Tony had Friday hack into the court systems,” Peter continued. Wade clutched at the couch cushion beneath him  warily. “And we’re married.”

Wade blinked. And blinked. And blinked some more. Of  _ anything _ that might have occurred to him—

[Not that anything did.]

— _ that  _ wasn’t it. “Married?” he asked.

{Let’s have a honeymoon!}

[What if Peter doesn’t like the idea?]

“Wade?” asked Peter sounding worried. He leaned forward, face intent. “Are you okay?”

_ Married. _ Wade pushed the mask off, threw himself across the living room at Peter, and kissed the other man soundly on the mouth. “Married?” he asked again, happily.

Peter chuckled. “Married,” he agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because it's late, I'm tired and I want sappy happy stuff after the night at work I had. The *long* night at work. I don't get paid enough.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. Overslept. Although I'm off tonight which means--more than one chapter. :)

Before Peter left for work he handed the girl a tablet. “This,” he said pulling up an app, “has almost every name that’s on the internet. Go here for girl names,” he said demonstrating, “here for boy, here for neutral, and if you’re having trouble reading it—” He tapped a name on the screen.

“Aaliyah,” a voice read to the room. “Meaning: exalted or sublime.”

Peter handed the tablet to the girl who gingerly took it. “ Just let us know when you find the one you want,” he told her. He reached over and gave Wade a kiss. “I’ve got to go to work today, but contact me if you need anything.”

Wade winked at him. “Got it, hubby.” Peter chuckled, patted the girl on the head, and left. “How about pancakes?” Wade asked the girl. The girl who was, once again, wearing the fairy wings.

Almost as soon as he finished the sentence the girl was in a chair at the table. (The same chair she sat in the morning before.  It seemed to be her spot now.) She fidgeted with the tablet as Wade made pancakes, absently singing the ingredients to the air.

“Aalotar,” the voice from the tablet read. “Meaning: Lady of the waves.” The tablet read off several more names before the pancakes were done. She set the tablet aside as Wade deposited a stack in front of her, already buttered with syrup.

[Man that kid eats like a bird. As in, two-thirds her body weight.]

{Did you  _ see _ the size of the webbing ball she threw away this morning? If spiders eat their webs for protein, she needs to replace it with something.}

“Good idea,” Wade said. “I’ll make bacon too.”

[Can you even  _ cook _ bacon?]

He can cook whatever he wants to cook. That is a  Wolf DF304 oven and I’m not letting it blow up.

{Why not? There haven’t been enough explosions in this yet.}

Because my oven is a POS, that’s why.

[That literally makes no sense.]

I can literally write you out of this story.

“Bacon!” screamed Wade, trying to keep from being written out of the story.  An absence of sound made him turn to see the girl staring at him, eyes wide, mouth full. He laughed nervously. “Sometimes,” he confided in her, “I talk to the voices in my head.” She tilted her head to the side, eyes slightly narrowed. Then she nodded and went back to eating.

Wade cooked the bacon, put it on a plate, and then fixed himself a much smaller plate than the one he made for the child. He watched her devour the food in front of her as he ate himself.  _ I have no fucking idea what I’m doing. _

“ Let’s go visit Aunt May!” Wade decided.

[She said not to come back in the suit.]

{We can’t show this ugly mug to that sweet old woman!}

_ Of course we can! She loves us just the way we are! _

_ Okay, what the fuck author? _

What is it now Wade?

_ Seriously. I override the voices and go out in regular clothes—when I went shopping with Peter as  _ Deadpool— _ because the old woman loves me? _

Wade, roll with it.

_ Why? That is so  _ stupid—

Because if you do, Spiderman will save you later.

Wade looked at the girl, still in pajamas, as she finished her food. “Sounds good to me!”  He grinned at her. “Let’s get the dishes washed and get ready to go.”

[Don’t we have a dishwasher?]

{We still have to rinse the dishes idiot.}

“ So, what do you want to wear today?” Wade asked the girl. She looked up at him, then went to her room and came back with a long-sleeved purple and pink striped shirt and a pair of pants that were the exact same shade of purple as the stripes on the shirt. She held them up for inspection. “Looks good,” Wade said cheerfully. “The purple matches the pants and the pink matches your shoes!”

The girl frowned, looked at the clothes again, and then tossed the shirt over a chair as she went back to her room. She came back with a pink pair of pants the same shade as the pink on the shirt and her shoes  and held it up for his inspection . “Or that works too,” Wade continued. She nodded, took the clothes, and went into the bathroom.

[I don’t get it. Why’d she get a different pair of pants?]

{Where did she get a fashion sense? She was wearing a white nightshirt when we found her.}

She came back out, dressed and hair brushed with a pair of socks and her shoes. The socks, Wade noticed, were the same shade of purple as the stripes on her shirt. He didn’t say anything though, in case she changed her mind and got a different pair.  While she was doing that (her shoes were Velcro, so she didn’t need help with the laces) Wade got dressed in a hoodie, jeans, gloves, and shoes—to help prevent people from accidentally getting a good look at his scars.  When he came out the girl not only had her socks and shoes on, but was also wearing the fairy wings again. The blue in the wings didn’t really match anything else she was wearing, but he said nothing.

“All right!” Wade crowed. He held his hand out to her. “Are you ready?” She nodded, shook his hand, and then grabbed the tablet Peter had handed her this morning.

[ Why didn’t she take our hand? Does she hate the gloves?]

{Maybe it’s because when she offered us her hand we shook it.}

“Upsy Daisy,” Wade said as he picked the child up. He frowned. She still felt really light, not like she’d put away three stacks of thick, fluffy pancakes and ten slices of bacon. “Where does all that food you eat  _ go _ ?” he asked as he locked the condo door. She stuck a thumb in her mouth and began to suck it while clutching the tablet to her chest.

He tucked the key into his pocket and head towards the elevator. “You’ll like Aunt May,” he told the child as they took it down. “She’s great. But, uh, you have to be like  _ super _ careful around her,” he cautioned. “She’s like, insanely fragile. I’m not kidding; the old woman once broke her hand because she swung a frying pan too hard.” He didn’t mention that she’d swung the frying pan at  _ him— _ but in her defense, it  _ had _ been the middle of the night. He still didn’t understand why she slept with a frying pan on her bedside table, but he slept with a magnum under the pillow so he had no room to judge.

The girl pulled her thumb out of her mouth and braced one arm on his shoulder, staring at him. Her large amber eyes looked like they were trying to see inside his soul.

[Think she sees us?]

{Maybe she can hear us. HEY, CAN YOU HEAR ME?}

Wade winced as the shout echoed through his head. “ Ow,” he commented as the doors opened.

She leaned over his shoulder, arms loosely wrapped around his neck, as she fiddled with the tablet. “Abijah,” the robotic voice said. “Meaning: God is my father.” Another tap. “Abilene. Meaning: Born where the grass grows.”

_ Oh, that is going to get so old so fast. _

“Abra. Meaning: Mother of multitude.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, anyone want to guess at what her name is going to be? (No, it's not Ellie. Not because I have anything against the name, but because I read too much Rave Master in my youth.)


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, back in the lab...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, he he, a little warning. This chapter is a little dark (not as dark as the last one I swear!), so, please mind the tags people.
> 
> Also: You're not imagining things. I did call her "Natalia" earlier, because that's what the wiki says her name is, but I've been reading a bunch of Spideypool on my own (hey, got to research somehow, right?) and she's usually called "Natasha." Plus, "Natasha" is easier for me to type. Sorry for the confusion!

Peter stared at the icon on the computer. He knew he should watch the footage, that he should get an idea of what the girl had gone through—but he couldn't. He just couldn't do it. He couldn't watch a _child_ get tortured.

He pushed away from the computer and looked at Dr. Banner. “I’m not watching this,” he told the older man firmly. “I’m not watching what they—what they went through.”

Dr. Banner sighed and ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. “I don’t blame you,” he said in the overtly emotionless voice that said he was having trouble controlling his temper—and his other half. “I couldn't—I couldn't watch most of it either.”

Natasha sighed. “Let me give you the broad strokes. Peter, the girl you’re looking after—have adopted—is, proportionally speaking, twenty times stronger than she should be. She’s flexible, like you, can actually spin webs, unlike you, and has a dying healing factor.”

“What?”

Natasha grimaced. “You definitely _don’t_ want to know what they did to get this information. I heard Deadpool killed the woman in charge?”

Peter remembered watching the katana sever the woman’s head and nodded.

“Good.”

“Um, yes.” Dr. Banner shifted uncomfortably, took a few, deep breaths, and continued. “From the time she was, uh, born, they ran multiple experiments testing the healing factor. I think she got it from Deadpool.”

“What?” Peter stared at the older man in shock. “How—”

To his surprise Natasha snorted. “Easy. You said they were collecting blood spilled in the streets, right? Can you think of a single time in the last six years that Spiderman was injured and Deadpool wasn’t also there, bleeding into the scene?”

Peter frowned as he thought. There were—a couple of instances, but he hadn’t been in the city then…and it was before he was officially adopted by Tony and Pepper. And usually, when Spiderman got hurt—Deadpool was hurt and already bleeding first. “Why do you think the healing factor is dying?” he asked.

“According to the ‘experiments’ they ran,” Natasha said. The cold tone of her voice made Peter glad he hadn’t watched the footage. “When they started, she could regrow limbs.”

Peter froze. Wade had regrown limbs—and was always in insane amounts of pain until they were the right size again. What had those people done to make a small _child_ regrow limbs?

“Once, she had to regrow three of them at the same time.” Natasha’s voice was still cold and emotionless as ice formed in Peter’s chest.

Dr. Banner let out a shaky sigh. “Be glad you didn’t watch that one Peter,” he said. “I think—I think that after seeing that footage we’re all a little grateful for Deadpool.” He shook his head. “Anyway, within the last year she went from being able to do that to having trouble healing bruises. Her healing abilities are almost normal now.”

“GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE SHITS!” snarled a voice as three children ran by the open door of the lab, giggling as they were chased by Pepper’s woefully underpaid (and probably soon to be replaced) assistant.

“All things considered,” Natasha said thoughtfully, “they’re adapting remarkably well.”

Something niggled at Peter’s brain. “Natasha,” he said slowly, “why was the girl—the one that’s now with Wade and me—separate from the others?”

Natasha frowned as she looked at Peter. “She escaped, of course.”

Peter thought back. “Yes,” he said slowly, “but where did she escape _from_ ?” When the other two looked at him he tried to rephrase his question. “Look—none of the other children have even _asked_ about her. I think that means they’re used to her _not being there_. So, where was she?”

“I think you’re over thinking this,” Dr. Banner said gently. “Looking for something that isn’t there. Speaking of which,” he continued, “I’d be grateful if you got me a sample of her webbing.”

Peter snorted. “ _That_ won’t be hard. She uses it all the time.” Dr. Banner handed Peter a petri dish. “I don’t think that’s big enough,” Peter said. “I’ll borrow a trash can.”

“Trash can?”

Peter nodded absently as he turned back to the computer. While the previous experiment was still on the back burner, thanks to the children, there were still some things that needed filed. “Yeah, one of the things she does is spin a web over the bed to sleep in.”

“What—”

“She _was_ eating it,” Peter continued as he typed in the relevant information on the previous experiments, “but Wade pointed out that she doesn’t need to and now she balls it up and throws it away. This morning’s web was condensed to about the size of a softball.”

“How—”

“And she stuck all of her clothes to the walls with spider silk. She has an interesting aesthetic sense.”

The door to the office opened and Pepper leaned in. “Sorry to interrupt, but there’s a threat attacking.”

“Another one?”

Peter couldn't tell which of them had spoken. Maybe all three of them. “Please hurry,” Pepper said worriedly. “Things are exploding.”

“And—ah, where _is_ Deadpool this morning?” asked Dr. Banner warily.

“It’s not his fault this time,” Peter said as he hung up his lab coat on the way out.

“You sure about that?” asked Natasha as she followed the two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because of course they want to know where Deadpool is when stuff blows up. :)


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The subway is interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I couldn't avoid non-Marvel specific locations forever--and if I got something wrong with my descriptions, please tell me. (My entire New York City experience is pretty much limited to Home Alone 2 and CSI: New York, aside from what I got from a quick Google search. Thanks Sir. Google!)

“Adele. Meaning: Graceful and noble.”

Wade wanted to _scream_ . He understood the girl wanted to figure out her new name, but that tablet voice was the most annoying thing _ever._ And he knew annoying.

“Adelheid. Meaning: Graceful and noble.”

[Didn’t the last five names mean the same thing?]

{Guess people want their daughters to be graceful. And noble.}

“Hey,” Wade said desperately as he tried to drag her attention away from the tablet before she tapped another name. “Look out the window!” The girl obediently turned, and then stared at the sight of the city moving in front of her, mouth slightly open.

[I hope the name she picks starts “A” and not some other letter, like “Z”.]

{Why is that old woman frowning at us?}

“What?” asked Wade as he turned to see that there was, indeed, an old woman staring at them. And frowning, the creases in her face sinking deeper as she glared at them.

The girl noticed his attention had wandered, followed it, stuck a thumb in her mouth, and snuggled closer to his chest. The woman’s frown deepened. “You shouldn't do that,” the old woman said.

Wade made a mental list of things he wasn’t supposed to do. He wasn’t supposed to kill people—

[And we haven’t! Well, not since the evil scientist lady, and Peter wasn’t even mad about that!]

He wasn’t supposed to blow things up—

{What’s with that, anyway? There is a sad lack of things exploding in this story.}

“Ah—” Wade said intelligently.

The old woman snorted and heaved herself out of her seat on the train to hobble over to the two of them with the aid of a gnarled wooden cane. All she needed was to be dressed in black with a raven on her hat and she could have been a story book wicked witch. “You men are all the same. I assume she dressed herself?” Before Wade could respond she clicked her tongue. “Of course she did—and you didn’t even look her clothes over did you?”

Wade stared blankly at the old woman. “Ah—what are you talking about?” he asked.

She sighed, leaning heavily on the crooked cane. She pointed to the girl. “Her shoes are on the wrong feet. If you leave them that way her feet will grow crooked and pain her every day of her life.”

“Like yours do?”

The woman whacked him with her cane. “Don’t you sass me, boy!” she snarled. “I am _not_ too old to give you the ass-whoopin’ you deserve!” She opened her mouth and the train car rocked as several explosions went off in the city.

[Look! Things are blowing up!]

{But we didn’t do it…}

Several small, purple things hit each other, stuck together—and the shock wave from an explosion rocked the car right off the rails.

Wade wrapped a leg around one of the poles, held the girl with one arm, and grabbed the old lady with the other as he braced. The windows blew in littering the few people in the car with small cuts. Wade couldn't help but notice one particularly large piece of glass slice a nasty scratch in the small girl’s cheek.

The train car tipped. Was about to fall. Webbing shot out of nowhere and pulled it back into place before Spiderman crawled in through the broken window. “Everyone all right in here?” he demanded.

Wade couldn't help but grin. Spiderman saved them! He let go of the older woman and gave a tentative wave. “Hi!” he called out. The girl’s head whipped around, fast enough to give a normal person whiplash, and she waved too.

Spiderman’s head ducked for a moment and Wade could swear he heard the sound of the man swallowing laughter. “So—where are the two—of you headed?” he asked.

“We’re going to visit Aunt May!” Wade said cheerfully. “And don’t worry, I made sure to let the girl know that Aunt May is a really fragile old lady with lots of spirit,” the girl helped him out by nodding, “but we thought it would be good to see her today.”

“Good,” said Spiderman. He turned to the old woman that Wade had thoughtfully set on the ground. “And you?”

The old woman sighed. “I need an ambulance boy,” she said wearily. She pulled back her coat to reveal that one of the spikes of glass had embedded itself into her abdomen.

“That looks bad,” Spiderman said. “Hold on.” He quickly and carefully webbed around the glass, locking it in place temporarily. Then he gently picked up the woman, walked over to Wade, and whispered, “I’ll borrow a car to pick the two of you up. The subway isn’t safe.”

“I hear it’s safer than the bus,” Wade said.

Wade can tell by the twitch that Peter grimaced. “It is today,” he muttered before leaving with the woman.

The girl looked around and then tapped the tablet again. “Adelina. Meaning: graceful and noble.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rest in peace, Aunt Anne.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a short battle in the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I had to show why stuff was blowing up. And yes, explosions are nice, but this is also integral to the plot.
> 
> I'm sorry it's so short.

Iron man held a palm out at a group of the purple blobs and a beam incinerated them. “Does anyone know what these things are?” he asked. Another one dropped on him and exploded sending his suit tumbling forwards—only to come to a halt as he was caught in one of Spiderman’s webs. “ Thanks,” he groaned.

“Don’t mention it.” 

“Forget what they are!” snarled Natasha as Hulk smashed more and more of the things—one explosion knocking him into another building. “ Where are they coming from?” She gave one a savage kick and it disintegrated.

“Why do half of them disintegrate and half of them blow up?” Spiderman asked into the communicator built into his suit. A blob landed on the web holding Iron Man, turned purple—and began to dissolve the webbing around it. “ Tony, watch out!” he said—just before the strand snapped sending Iron man dropping again until his thrusters stabilized.

“Okay,” said Iron Man. “These things are officially pissing me off now.”

S piderman watched the air flow from Iron Man’s thrusters  disrupt the falling of the blobs. He quickly scaled a building to check his hypothesis—and he was right. The blobs were falling in line with the air current. So, where was the wind coming from?

“I got an idea!” he told the others before swinging off to find the source of the blobs.

“Mind sharing?” demanded Natasha tersely.

H e landed on a building and scanned the sky until he saw, on one of the rooftops, a figure in front of a blue glowing circle in the air viciously stabbing at something. He swung over until he could drop next to the figure and saw it was a young woman with raven black hair styled in pigtails and  in a patched white lab coat.

She turned and saw him as more little purple blobs drifted through the portal in front of her. “I can’t turn it off!” she yelled, eyes wide with panic.

“ Okay! What is it?”

“It’s  _ supposed _ to summon condensed water from space,” she growled as she tugged one of her braids. “I don’t know where these—these things are coming from!”

“Clearly it’s not well tuned.” He found a power cable, yanked—and the machine died after spitting out one last blob. “Fixed it, Ms.?” He turned—but she was gone. Almost as though she’d never existed.  He looked at the last place he saw her and then ripped open the control panel of the machine. There was an odd glowing stone inside that was slightly floating. He grabbed it, stuck in one of his near invisible pockets, and swung back to the action. “Got the source taken care of. Now all we have to do is clean up.”


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade and the girl visit Aunt May.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so in this AU Aunt May has developed severely brittle bones and can neither work nor completely care for herself. That's how Stark ended up as Peter's legal guardian (and is paying for the nice, resort like assisted living facility that Aunt May is currently in).
> 
> Also--this is probably my last chapter of the night, and I hope people enjoy what I've posted. (I tend to get into a writing zone when I'm off...)

The old folks home (assisted living facility) that Aunt May lived in was built like a mansion with two wings. One wing was full of apartments for people who were (mostly) able to look after themselves. The other was for those whose health was so bad they couldn't even try. Wade checked in at the desk, because he wasn’t sure which side Aunt May would be in. 

The woman working the desk stared at him. Most people did—but he didn’t mind it as much wearing his mask. “ _ You’re _ related to Mrs. Parker?” demanded the woman, her lip curling up.

“Yup,” Wade said with a fake grin plastered to his face. “I’m her nephew and this is my daughter.” He hoped they didn’t ask what the girl’s age was. Or her name. He had no idea and didn’t know how to explain it.

The girl looked at the woman behind the desk and gave a wave. A wave that was,  Wade noticed, almost exactly like the one she gave Spiderman earlier. The woman’s face softened. “Oh, what a cutie!” she said.

The girl turned and buried her head in Wade’s jacket as he grinned. “She’s a little shy,” he explained.

“It’s safer that way,” the woman said cryptically as she typed quickly into her computer. “Mrs. Parker is in the  Adams wing, room 342.”

The Adams wing was the one for people doing well enough to support themselves, mostly. He nodded, relieved that she wasn’t in the Donner wing, and walked away from the desk. The place  _ looked _ like a fancy hotel, but it  _ smelled _ like a hospital.

The room was opened by a sour faced woman who frowned at him. Wade was about to apologize for getting the wrong room when he heard Aunt May behind her. “Wade!” the woman said as she hobbled forwards. She had a huge boot on one foot and was leaning heavily on a cane.

“Ma’am,” the sour-faced woman said respectfully, “you shouldn't be pushing yourself.”

“Nonsense,” breezed May. “My foot is in a boot, and boots were made for walking!”

“And just last week that boot was a cast,” the woman said tersely.

Aunt May just waved that off as she walked over to Wade. She grinned at the child on his chest. “And who might you be, dear?” she asked gently. The child turned and looked at her and Aunt May gave a low whistle. “Oh, you look like the spitting image of your father!” She turned to the sour-faced woman. “Adelina, please be a dear and get some snacks together for these two.” The sour-faced woman nodded and then stalked off, into the apartment.

Wade put the little girl down and she looked up at Aunt May with wide eyes. Her thumb went to her mouth. “None of that now,” Aunt May said gently smack the hand away. “You’re getting too big for that, and you need to stop. The girl paused, as if considering. She hugged the tablet (miraculously unharmed) to herself.

[Given this author I don’t think “miraculous” is the right word.]

Shush.

“Good girl,” Aunt May said. The girl gave her a tentative smile. “Come in, come in,” she said as she hobbled back to the couch.

The sour-faced woman came in and put a huge plate with apple slices and a small bowl of peanut butter on the table. The girl looked at the food. “Say ‘thank you’,” Aunt May prompted.

The girl looked up, eyes wide and timid. “Thank you?” she asked hesitantly.

Aunt May reached over and tousled the girl’s hair. “Good girl,” she approved. The girl touched her hair, beamed at Wade, beamed at Aunt May, and even smiled at the sour-faced woman before digging into the food. 

Wade smiled at Adelina too. “Did you know your name means ‘graceful and noble’?” he asked.

She sneered at him before turning to Aunt May. “I’m going to to the kitchens. Page me if you need anything.” She left with one last glare for Wade.

“Who shoved a stick up her ass?” asked Wade glaring at the woman.

Aunt May laughed. “Sometimes,” she confessed, “I wonder the same thing. Child,” she said addressing the little girl. The girl paused, apple slice with peanut butter on it halfway to her mouth. “Please go down that hall into the room on the left and bring out the large plastic tote with the bright red and blue lid,” she said. The girl put the apple slice  down and tottered off to comply with the old woman’s wishes.

“Where did she come from Wade?” Aunt May asked quietly. “This child who’s the spitting image of Peter and has no name?”

[How does she know the girl doesn’t have a name?]

{It’s Aunt May. Her powers of observation are scary beyond belief.}

So, Wade told her everything. He started with Peter being stalked, getting kidnapped (again), being rescued, and finding the child who led them to the other children. “Old Tin Can kind of—uh, went into the system,” he finished.  If his skin hadn’t been so badly scarred he would have flushed. “Uh—Peter and I—we’re married now.”

Aunt May whooped with laughter again. The girl came into the room holding a thirty gallon plastic tote that was full of books. She gently put it on the floor and looked at Aunt May. “Good girl,” she approved. “Now, open it up and bring me the flower printed binder.” The girl complied and Wade, curious, drifted over. “This,” Aunt May said with satisfaction as she opened it show some pictures, “is Peter when he was your—size.”

Wade looked at the picture, a boy in front of a snowman that was partially made with dirty snow and both hands in the air like he was cheering. Aside from the length of the hair (Peter’s was shorter in the picture than the girl’s was) and the clothing, the two could have easily been the same kid. Something about the happy amber eyes in the picture, compared to the somber amber eyes of the girl, made Wade choke up.

Aunt May turned the pages showing them snapshots of Peter growing up. Peter with his first camera. Peter with his glasses broken, taped together, and sporting both a huge black eye and a wide smile.

[The fuck happened there?]

{He looks so proud of—whatever he did.}

Wade hovered his finger over the picture. “What happened here?” he asked.

Aunt May chuckled. “A bully at school pushed down another student and Peter went swinging to her rescue.” She smiled fondly at the picture. “He got beaten up and became the target of all the bullies, but he was so proud that he saved that little girl.”

Wade chuckled as well. “Sounds like Peter,” he said with a smile.

[Uh, speaking of little girls, what is she doing?]

Wade turned his head to see the girl going through the tote. Aunt May peered around him. “See anything interesting in there?” she asked. The girl pulled out an old, yellowed spiral-bound notebook and brought it over. Opening it to show page after page of blankness that didn’t even have lines in it, she frowned. “Oh, it’s Peter’s old sketchbook,” Aunt May said with a smile.

Wade blinked. “Peter—draws?” he asked, confused. It was the first he’d heard of it.

Aunt May chuckled. “No,” she said, amused. “Peter never drew. It was a present from someone who didn’t know him well.” She looked at the girl. “ Would you like the sketchbook?” she asked. The girl nodded, timidly. “Say please.” The girl looked confused. “When you want something,” Aunt May continued, “you say, please. If you’re being formal, you say, ‘may I please have it’. And when someone gives you what you want, you say ‘thank you’.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed and Wade watched, wondering what she’d do. “May I please have the sketchbook, Aunt May?” asked the girl timidly. Wade felt his eyes go wide.

Aunt May’s narrowed in satisfaction—looking eerily similar to the girl when she was considering something. “Indeed you may, good girl. Since you have been such a good girl, I’ll give you something else. Inside that tote is a box of colored pencils you can also have—if you can find it.”

“Thank you,” the girl said timidly. When Aunt May smiled at her she smiled back and then went to dig through the tote—neatly, making sure not to make a mess.

“That’s a good girl,” Aunt May said with satisfaction. She looked at Wade. “Now, I’m grateful for this visit and all, but why are you here Wade?” she asked.

Wade sighed and rubbed his hands over his bald head. “I’m terrified,” he admitted to the older woman. “ I’m so scared that I’m going to fu—mess this up.”

Aunt May smiled. “Welcome to the world of everyone who has ever been a parent,” she told him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes, I know a lot of little old ladies, and yes--they're all terrifying. It kind of bleeds into things.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter gets Wade and the child from Aunt May's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a little long of a chapter. Hope no one minds. Also, slight trigger warning. No details, just vague references.

Peter gently (after a long day of fighting he tended to use too much strength) closed the door of the SUV that Pepper had loaned him. He didn’t know where she’d gotten an SUV that had a car seat in the back (and smelled vaguely of stale cheese crackers), and he wasn’t going to ask. He had a feeling the answer wasn’t something he wanted to know.

He went to the desk of the facility to ask where Aunt May currently was, and the woman frowned at him. “I thought the other guy was her nephew,” the woman grumbled.

Peter grinned. “The other guy,” he told her, “is my husband.” The woman looked at him and he laughed. “We were supposed to come together today to tell her the good news—but there was a problem at work.” Peter grimaced thinking of that horrible residue those blobs left on everything—it had taken him almost an _hour_ to get it off, and the suit was still dirty.

“You didn’t invite her to the wedding?” demanded the woman, looking scandalized.

“She broke her foot stomping to the song ‘We Will Rock You’,” Peter reminded her. “We were afraid something would happen, and she won’t let us set her up with a video chat.”

The woman’s hands flew over the keyboard in front of her. “Yeah, she’s a stubborn one,” the woman agreed. “Probably for the best—room 342 in the Addams wing.”

“Thank you,” Peter said with a slight bow before heading up. When he reached the door he could hear Wade and Aunt May talking—not loudly enough he could hear individual words, but loud enough that he could tell conversation was taking place. He knocked.

“Come in!” called Aunt May’s voice. Peter grinned as he opened the door. The girl was on the floor with a sketchbook in front of her, colored pencils to her side, drawing something as she lazily swung her feet into the air. She looked like a little fairy.

Wade was sitting on the couch next to Aunt May and looking at a depressingly familiar binder. “Aunt May,” Peter said as he came in, “you didn’t really pull out the photo albums, did you?” He gave Wade a kiss on the cheek and did the same for Aunt May.

“Of course not, the child got them for me,” Aunt May said.

Peter turned to see said child, standing behind him and looking at him with wide amber eyes. “May I have one too?” she asked. He was startled, but pleased that she was speaking without prompting. He leaned down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. The cheek that, just a few short hours ago, had been cut and now didn’t have so much as a scratch on it. She grinned at him. “Thank you,” she said as she went back to the sketchbook.

“Such a smart girl,” approved Aunt May. “Have you decided on your name yet, child?” she asked. The girl looked up and shook her head. “Well, no rush. Peter, you will tell me when she decides.”

Peter grinned at his aunt. “Of course,” he said.

“How was work?” asked Wade.

Wade knew that Peter didn’t like going over the details of work as Spiderman at the facility, because he was fairly certain that there was audio security in the apartment. It was necessary, in case Aunt May broke something while her caregiver was gone, but he still had to be careful.

Peter sighed. “I finished inputting the last of the data from the samples we were working with before Tony shunted us to another project.” His eyes strayed to the girl, who was once again drawing and back to Wade. “Then we had a lock down drill that erased all the data I input so I had to go back into the computer and do it all over again.” He noticed a partially eaten plate of apple slices and peanut butter and helped himself to one.

“Goodness,” Aunt May said. “That sounds like quite the day.” The door to the little apartment opened and a sour-faced woman came in. “And that’s my cue to start getting ready for bed,” Aunt May said sadly.

“Don’t worry May,” Wade said pecking her on the cheek, “we’ll come visit soon.”

Aunt May chuckled, although she didn’t try to get up. Peter could tell that she was in a lot of pain—but it was nothing he could fix. The girl put her stuff in a reusable grocery bag (that Aunt May had probably given her, stood up and kissed Aunt May on the cheek. “Thank you, Dear,” Aunt May said as she gently hugged the child. The girl wrapped her arms around the old woman so gently she didn’t even dent the clothes. Peter approved.

“Now,” Aunt May said looking at the child, “I’m going to tell you how to tell if your shoes are on the right feet, since your fathers’ certainly can’t.” A quick glance showed Peter that the woman was right—her shoes _were_ on the wrong feet. He hadn’t noticed. Aunt May quickly pointed out that the Velcro straps were supposed to point away from each other and the girl quickly fixed her shoes, got another hug and walked over to Wade as Peter got his own hug from his Aunt. “Be careful, Peter,” she warned. “There are strange things going on and I don’t want any of you to get hurt.”

“I’ll do my best,” Peter said.

His aunt smiled. “You always do,” she said sadly.

Actually strapping the child into the car seat as a logistical nightmare. It wasn’t that the girl didn’t cooperate—she did, by holding as still as possible—but there were seven different straps and it seemed as though all seven had their own buckles. Not to mention an arm that came down (like the stabilizing arms on roller coasters) to give the kid a sort of desk-like space.

The girl was amazingly patient. Peter was slightly surprised that she didn’t panic at being strapped in, given her history, but he was grateful about it. After lowering the arm he handed her back the tote bag and she slid one skinny arm through it. Then she smiled, pulled out the sketchbook, and a colored pencil (red, he noticed) and went back to drawing whatever it was she was drawing. He’d wait to see what it was until she told him.

After the three of them were on the road back home (well, to the Tower where they could drop the SUV off) Peter brought up something that was niggling at him. “I noticed,” he said as casually as possible, “that your cheek healed quickly.”

The girl stopped what she was doing and looked at Peter. “Is that bad?” she asked worriedly.

“Oh, no,” Peter hurriedly replied. “I just noticed.”

“It _was_ bad,” the girl said as she bent back to her book. “Because if I didn’t heal as fast they didn’t hurt me as much.”

The worst was the _way_ she said it—casually, like she was reporting something that happened at the store.

Peter pulled the car over and turned to face her in the car seat. Wade did the same thing. “Honey,” he said firmly, “you know that neither of us would ever do anything to hurt you, right?”

She looked at him, eyes narrowed in what he recognized as her thinking look. “I know,” she said after a moment. “And, I know, because you haven’t.” She went back to what she was doing. The two men were more shaken up than she was.

Peter grimly realized that the girl now had near perfect control of her healing factor. “Is there anything you want to talk about?” he asked as he pulled back into traffic.

“Not really. I like it better here,” the girl calmly said. The rest of the trip back was silent except for the scratches of pencil against paper.

Peter delivered the car keys to Pepper and went home. The Tower was quieter than it had been earlier, because most of the children had already been sent on to Xavier’s school. Only three were left, and Peter was grateful for the quiet as he headed out.

When he got home he grinned at the sight of Wade in a frilly apron and the almost trademark unicorn slippers. The two hugged for a moment and he took in the feel of the other man. They were interrupted by the girl. “What is it?” Peter asked.

The girl, silently staring at them, held up the tablet and tapped a name. “Arachne. Meaning: spider.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because of course that's her name.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade has fun and we learn more about Arachne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So--yes, I suck at summaries. Still--I don't think there are any triggers in this chapter (since most of the other chapters where we learn more about the children have triggers I thought I'd mention it). Enjoy!

“And now we’re off to training,” Wade sang, in his Deadpool suit as Peter (Spiderman suit in his bag) and Arachne (still wearing her fairy wings) followed him to the tower. “Gonna kick some ass—ets.”

Peter snorted. It couldn't be more obvious that Wade was trying not to cuss in front of the girl. Personally, Peter thought it was adorable. Wade spun a pirouette as they crossed the street.

Wade casually leaped from the street to the sidewalk in an odd move that was part jump and part axel spin. “And after lunch,” caroled Wade, “we get to do it all over again!”

“You know they don’t like it when you say stuff like that Wade,” Peter mock scolded.

“Oh!” Wade put both hands over his heart. “You wound me!” He collapsed to the sidewalk. “I shall die.” He made an exaggerated croaking noise and his head fell to the side.

The general public in the area, aware that Deadpool did this at least once a week, merely stepped over or around him. Arachne (wearing pink and blue today, to match the sparkles on the wings) ran up to Wade and timidly touched his shoulder, clearly concerned. “Are you okay?” she asked.

Somehow, Wade drew himself to his tip-toes without bending and announced to the world, “I HAVE _REVIVED_!”

Peter clutched the side of the building as he burst into helpless laughter. The girl looked between the two of them, clearly confused and Peter stifled his laughter as he picked her up so he could explain—outside where the AI couldn't hear them. “One day Iron Man demanded to know if Wade could act _more_ outlandish, and every time we both come over he tries to one-up himself.” He didn’t share the rest of the conversation, where Wade had demanded to know who had Tony’s panties in a twist.

“Brains!” moaned Wade shuffling forwards with his arms outstretched and wrists limp. “Brains!”

The door automatically opened for them both. “Mr. Wilson-Parker,” Friday said as they crossed the threshold into the building, “Mr. Romanov is in the training room waiting for you. Peter, Dr. Banner is waiting for you in the new lab.”

Wade gaped. “How come he’s ‘Peter’ and _I’m_ Mr. Wilson-Parker?”

“Earlier in our acquaintance Peter informed me that he felt uncomfortable being addressed by his last name. Since you have made no mention of discomfort at being called by your last name I merely continued to do so. Would you prefer to be known by another name?”

Wade beamed up at the ceiling and stood, hands on his hips. “Yes!” he said happily. “I want to be _Mrs._ Wilson-Parker.”

There was a soft tone and Friday said, “Very well, Mrs. Wilson-Parker. I shall remember.”

“Thanks buddy!” Wade said, skipping (literally) down the hall.

Peter put down Arachne as he tried not to burst out snickering. He hoped he was in the room to see Tony’s face the first time Friday called Wade “Mrs. Wilson-Parker.” Arachne tucked a hand into his and looked up, worry on her face. “Don’t worry,” he told her as he led her to the elevator. “Everything will be all right,” he added as they went up to the floor.

When Friday said that Dr. Banner wanted Peter in the new lab, the AI didn’t mean that a new lab had been built—it meant that Dr. Banner had moved to another lab. The man regularly switched between two of them, and the next lab was always “the new one.” Peter wasn’t sure why Dr. Banner had changed labs, but felt certain he’d find out.

In the new lab was an alarm clock, very conspicuously in sight of the door, that was a match for the one that Dr. Banner broke not that long ago. “Is it set?” asked Peter curiously as he set Arachne down on the table. She stuck her thumb in her mouth as she watched the two of them with wide eyes.

Dr. Banner grimaced. “No,” he said wearily. “I couldn't figure out how.” Peter grinned; there was just something funny about how the man could use micro levers to take apart a nanomachine and couldn't set an alarm clock. Dr. Banner opened a single eye at him. “I heard that,” he told Peter.

“Sorry Dr. Banner,” said Peter. He quickly changed the subject. “This is Arachne,” he said. Then he remembered what Friday had called Wade and added, with a grin, “Arachne Wilson-Parker.”

“Nice to meet you Arachne,” Dr. Banner said. “Have you told Tony yet?”

“Not yet, but I did call Aunt May last night.”

Dr. Banner nodded. “That was wise,” he commented. He put his coffee cup on the table next to him and strode over to Arachne. “Now,” he said to the child, “I have a few questions.” Arachne looked at Peter, still worrying her thumb in her mouth.

“It’s okay,” Peter assured her.

“Peter tells me that you use webbing. Would you mind showing me how that works?”

“Don’t you already know about that?” asked Peter.

“Amazingly, no. It didn’t come up.”

“Show?” asked Arachne, frowning.

“He wants you to spin your web to something,” Peter said.

The girl continued frowning and Dr. Banner opened his mouth to say something, but Peter shushed him with a shake of his head. Arachne needed figure out what she wanted to do. She looked around the lab and Peter saw when her eyes lit on two poles (used for hanging bags when liquid needed to be dripped for an experiment). She jumped down from the table, climbed the wall next to them. Then, alternating which pole she was pointing at, she spun an almost perfect orb weaver web using both wrists.

Arachne reached out to grab the web and the poles moved. She flattened herself to the wall and glared. “They’re not very sturdy,” she complained as she got down to the floor. Then she began gnawing on her wrists.

“Arachne, what are you doing?” asked Peter curiously. He’d never seen her do that before.

She looked up. “They’re getting clogged,” she explained.

“May I see? Arachne,” asked Dr. Banner. Arachne hesitated, glanced at Peter, and then held out a timid hand. Dr. Banner looked at the tiny holes in her wrist. Sure enough, there was still a little bit of webbing stuck in there. “Fascinating,” he mused. He looked at the child. She looked like she wanted to snatch her hand and run, but didn’t dare. He released her hand and she backed up until she was next to Peter. “Arachne, have they always gotten clogged like that?”

The girl shook her head, but didn’t speak. Peter wasn’t certain what it was about Dr. Banner’s examination that spooked her, but he was willing to bet it had to do with those videos he didn’t watch. “How long have they been clogging like that?” he asked the child.

Arachne looked up at Peter, clearly having no difficulty talking to him. “Since last night.”

“Hmm,” mused Bruce. “It might be a dietary imbalance—I’ll run some tests,” he said. Arachne backed up a little more until Dr. Banner pulled some of the web down and took a thin strand.

Peter looked at Arachne and tried to think of something— _anything—_ the child _wasn’t_ eating. Then he frowned, considering. Maybe it wasn’t an _eating_ problem. “Arachne, how much water do you normally drink?”

“I don’t know,” she said, clearly confused. “We used to get six big glasses four times a day.” She grimaced. “I don’t really like water that much,” she confessed.

“Dr. Banner, Peter, Mr. Stark has announced he is coming to visit.”

“What does he want now,” muttered Dr. Banner as the door to the lab opened and Stark walked in.

In a flash Arachne had scaled Peter and was clinging to his back. Peter absently grabbed the front of his shirt to keep it from sliding back and choking him. Tony missed none of this. “What was that?” he demanded as he glared through Peter at the child on his back. Arachne began to shake.

“You scare her,” Peter explained.

Tony stared for a moment. Then his face went red. “I refuse,” he growled, “to believe that _I_ am scarier than _Deadpool_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was thinking of putting a flashback in here, of back when Spiderman and Deadpool are first meeting. Thoughts? Comments? Concerns?


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback of how Deadpool and Spiderman first met--from Spiderman's point of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was harder to write than I thought it would be. I hope people like it. Uh, side note--my little hick town doesn't have an internet cafe, so if I got a detail wrong just let me know.

Peter sipped his coffee and wondered why he bothered when he metabolized it too quickly for the caffeine to actually do anything. He didn’t even really like the taste of coffee, and yet every time he went to this internet cafe he ordered the same thing. Ah, well, it didn’t really matter much.

He scanned the screen in front of him as he read responses to his blog. Well, not  _ Peter’s _ blog (because who would read about Peter), but  _ Spiderman’s _ blog.  Most of the comments were along the lines of “who’s writing this because Spiderman wouldn't have a blog” type. He ignored those.

The blog was actually stress release. He felt better after a day of trying to stop Green Goblin without killing him (and seriously, when would the lab make an antidote to the serum that turned Norman Osborn insane?) if he could rant about it. It wasn’t just ranting though—he also posted the little acts of kindness he saw every night during patrol; like the clerk who bought a jug of milk so that a starving runaway would have something healthy to drink, the officer who spent a little extra time helping a high school student with her homework in the park, things like that. Things he noticed and saw—and made those people better heroes than Spiderman would every be.

Oddly enough, today there was a comment with a mini rant on, of all people, Deadpool. After a quick internet search—Deadpool, master mercenary, insane psychopathic killer, the works—Peter puts his coffee down and types a short post.

_ I’ve been hearing a lot about a mercenary known as Deadpool. I’ve heard that he’s got no morals, is certifiably insane, and has a larger kill count than the last world war. If you read this Deadpool, I want to tell you something: Don’t kill in my city. _

Peter did a quick scan for grammar mistakes, and posted the short message. He never intended it to be an invitation.

 

^^^

 

Peter was swinging on patrol when he caught sight of a lunatic in a bright red and black, almost form-fitting leather suit. The form was surrounded by armed men and he swung over to see what was going on. “Fellas,” the lunatic said, “I’m flattered—I really am, but have you actually thought this through?” The lunatic paused. “No, I don’t think he knows his face looks like a gorilla’s ass, but I’ll ask. Hey flat-face! Did you know your face looks like a gorilla’s ass?”

Peter rolled his eyes, but couldn't stop a grin.  The man the lunatic was talking to had a crease in the middle of his face that did, indeed, make it resemble an ass. Before the man could react Peter caught him with a strand of webbing, yanked him back, and cocooned him.

“Holy shit! It’s  _ Spiderman _ !” yelled the lunatic before turning and punching one of the men so hard the man’s face deformed. “Hey Spidey! I haven’t killed anyone in your city! Oh, shit, you  _ are  _ still alive, aren’t you? Don’t make a liar out of me!” The lunatic picked up the goon he punched and the man, misshapen face and all, flops around. “Er.” The lunatic put his face on the guy’s chest, nodded, and let him drop to the roof as most of the other men (the ones Peter didn’t web) fled the scene. “Yup, still alive,” the lunatic announced.

Peter stood and looked at the other man in the suit. “You must be Deadpool,” he said flatly.

Somehow, the other man managed to beam at Peter through his suit. “Yes I am. And I haven’t killed anyone in your city!”

Peter remembered the blog and bit back a sigh. He hadn’t  _ meant _ that to be an invitation—but Deadpool was here. He walked over and gently pat Deadpool on the shoulder. “Good job,” he told the lunatic.  A sound caught his attention and he frowned as he pinpointed it. “Bank robbery—this time of night?” he murmured.

“Oh! Let me come too! I want to help too!”

Peter looked at Deadpool, at the mercenary so feared that most people wet their pants, bouncing up and down like an excited puppy. “All right,” he agreed grudgingly, “but let me call someone.”

“A cabbie? A helicopter? Your lady friend?” Somehow the suit gave an impression of waggling eyebrows.

“Police,” Peter said vaguely as he reported the men, requested an armed ambulance escort for one of them, and then closed the phone before tucking it back in his pocket.

“Holy shit, and they say  _ I’m _ amazing. Well, never twice, but holy shit! Where, in that tightness, did you put a  _ pocket _ ?”

“Are you going to do this the whole way?” asked Peter warily. “Because if you are, you can just meet me at the bank.” He gave the frozen lunatic the address of the bank in question and swings off.

 

^^^^

 

Over the next week, Peter kept running into Deadpool while patrolling. True to his word, Deadpool didn’t kill anyone. He seemed happy (albeit, really insane) just tagging along with Peter and helping him fight crime and, occasionally, some of the other people Spiderman had to fight on occasion.

The funniest thing was that Deadpool had begun replying to the Spiderman blog. The comments were just as random, weird, and funny as Deadpool was. Peter didn’t really admit it much, but he enjoyed reading about their patrols together from Deadpool’s point of view.

One night the two of them had teamed up together to fight the Lizard as he was destroying (once again) the building of the lab that he used to work for. “This is  _ not _ a good idea,” he warned as Deadpool tried to  sneak up on the Lizard (difficult, since both Spiderman and the Lizard were scaling the wall). The Lizard’s tail swung out, knocking Deadpool off the side of the building—at thirty floors up. 

Peter swung over, grabbed the mercenary, and helped him to a fire escape. “How about an ambush on the roof?” he asked casually, as if he rescued falling mercenaries every day.

Even through the mask he could tell Deadpool was grinning. “Why not?” he demanded. “Rooftop battles are my favorite. The moonlight does  _ wonders _ for my complexion.”

Peter rolled his eyes, grateful his mask was less expressive than Deadpool’s, and scaled back to haul the Lizard out of a window he was crawling into. “Hey tall dark and scaly,” he taunted as he dodged an arm that went through the brick of the building. “Ready to give up yet?” The Lizard roared and charged after Peter, gouging chunks of brick and mortar off in the process. Peter just managed to make it over the top of the roof and duck as Deadpool’s blade (dull side out) smashed into the Lizard’s neck, knocking him unconscious.

The lizard shivered—and slowly shrank back into Dr. Conner, who shivered, naked, in the moonlight.

“What the fuck?” demanded Deadpool as Peter used a blanket to cover the man.

“Dr. Conner’s been researching something to help people regrow lost limbs,” Peter said as he picked up the older man. “There are some—side effects to the serum.”

“That’s one hell of a side effect.” Deadpool followed Spiderman to the ground and to the shelter that Dr. Conner’s wife (after some consultation with Spiderman) had built for the unconscious scientist to be returned to after a fight with Spiderman.

Peter grimaced as he remembered. “Yeah,” he said wearily. “When he found out his project was being shut down he wanted to prove the serum would work on a human subject—so he took it.”

“He took it?”

“Well, giving it to someone else wouldn't be ethical.” Peter tucked Dr. Conner into the shelter and turned to face Deadpool. “There are a lot people like that in this city Deadpool. People who aren’t bad, but are doing bad things  because of things that have happened to them. I can’t save everyone,” he added pensively, “but I can try.” The two of them turned and began walking out of the alley. Deadpool was, for the moment, uncharacteristically silent. “I’m glad you trusted me enough to catch you like that,” Peter said.

“What? Trust? Oh—that. Nah, it wouldn't have been a big deal if I  _ had _ fallen Spidey,” Deadpool said casually. “I can’t die.”

Peter stopped walking, stared at the mercenary, and then began to yell at him about the importance of looking after himself and it didn’t matter if he could just come back from the dead he shouldn’t be dying in the first place.

At the end of the long rant dawn was starting to break over the city and Deadpool just stared at Peter, his usually expressive mask entirely still. “You hungry? I know a  _ great _ Mexican place—open twenty-four hours!”

Peter sighed. “Yeah, sure, why not.”


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Spiderman and Deadpool meet--from Deadpool's perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! This is a long chapter. Okay people, mind those tags. Parts of this get dark and there's definitely some of that violence that Deadpool is known for. It took a long time to type up, I'm really tired, please let me know if you see grammatical mistakes. Or if you like it. Or if you don't like it. Comment please!

“ Oopsy-daisy!” Deadpool said as he shook the body off his katana. The katana he had to then throw to the side since it was bent in the middle.

[I told you not to get them from that vendor. He clearly didn’t know what he was doing.]

{Ugh—his guts are all over our feet.}

Deadpool laughed maniacally, twirled, and shot the next four enemies. Then he looked around, slightly disappointed that there weren’t any more to kill.

[That was what, five bodyguards plus target? It was too easy.]

{There’s someone behind us.}

Deadpool whirled again, gun raised to the head of a young man. The man had white streaks in his orange hair, was dressed in an impeccable suit, and looked nervous. Deadpool didn’t take the nervous part personally—most people were when they talked to him. The young man had both hands raised and part of Deadpool sighed with regret that he wasn’t going to be able to kill the young man. He had two rules: kill no one unarmed and  _ not  _ trying to kill him (unless he was being paid  _ insanely _ well for it) and two: no children—ever. There was not enough money in the world to make him consider killing a child.

The young man swallowed hard. “I’ve—I’ve heard a lot about you Deadpool.”

Deadpool shrugged without moving the gun. “People have. People talk. People die,” he said simply. “It’s all in good fun, I mean money. I mean money and fun.” He giggled. 

The young man looked unnerved. Most people did after talking to Deadpool for a few minutes. “Well, that’s what I want to talk to you about.” The young man swallowed again. “I want to hire you to kill someone for me.”

“Oh? Who is that?”

“Spiderman.”

[Who the fuck is that?]

{Eh, forget. Let’s just kill this fucker.}

“Now now, we can’t kill him,” Deadpool said reasonably. “After all, he’s going to pay us to kill someone else.”

[And just what are you going to do with more money? Buy another shitty sword?]

“I’ll spend my money how I want it!” snarled Deadpool. The young man took a step back. “So, mister—uh—what’s your name?”

“Osborn. Norman Osborn.”

“Well Normie,” Deadpool said as he slipped his  gun back into its holster. “We maybe have a deal.”

“Maybe?”

“Maybe. I have no fucking clue who Spiderman man, and I don’t kill kids.” He picked up the bent katana and sighed. “White’s right,” he muttered, “cheap ass sword. I bet the bastard wasn’t even a real smith.”

[We can always kill him on the way out of town.]

“So you’re going to do research?” Normie sounds surprised—astonished even.

“Oh yeah. Don’t get your panties in a twist,” he told the man.  He swung the katana a few times.

{I don’t think it’ll work if we straighten it.}

“Shouldn’t have bent in the first fucking place,” grouched Deadpool as he lumbered off. He walked right off the roof, died, healed, and kept going. Once he reached his place (a real dump, but he didn’t care enough to clean up), he got on his computer (a state-of-the-art laptop because who wants to look at grainy porn), and started researching Spiderman.

According to the inter-web, he he, the spider has only been around for about six months, was both credited for stopping a terrorist organization and cited as the menace  _ behind _ the organization, and basically did hero stuff. Like one of those stick-in-the-ass Avengers he occasionally ran into. Oh, and he had a blog. Wait—Spiderman had a blog?

Curious he began browsing it. The thing had several different threads; one of them was a rant thread about his villains—yadda yadda yawn—another was about food—was there anything the spider didn’t eat? Not that Deadpool was one to judge—but the third one caught his eye. It was about “everyday heroes.” A clerk spotting a runaway some money for milk (bet she never saw that money again), an officer helping a kid, off the clock, with homework, a gang leader rescuing a kitten from a tree—weird random shit. And Deadpool knew random.

[Oh, that should be our new catchphrase!]

Then Deadpool came across a recent post, and stared for a moment.

_ I’ve been hearing a lot about a mercenary known as Deadpool. I’ve heard that he’s got no morals, is certifiably insane, and has a larger kill count than the last world war. If you read this Deadpool, I want to tell you something: Don’t kill in my city. _

{That’s practically an invitation!}

[Don’t go. It might be a trap.]

“With this shit? No way.” Deadpool jumped up and grinned. “We’re going to New York City!”

[We’re not really going to not kill people, right? Just because a blog said so?]

 

^^^

 

Of course, Deadpool hadn’t expected a group of thugs to meet him on one of the buildings. “Osborn ain’t happy with you ‘Pool,” one of them sneered. He flipped out a switchblade—an honest to God switchblade—against  _ Deadpool. _ “We’re here to kill you.”

“Fellas,”  Deadpool said, “I’m flattered—I really am, but have you actually thought this through?”

[ His face looks like a gorilla’s ass!]

{Do you think he knows that?}

“No, I don’t think he knows his face looks like a gorilla’s ass, but I’ll ask. Hey flat-face! Did you know your face looks like a gorilla’s ass?”  The man’s face suffused with rage and he lunged forwards to attack Deadpool—only to be pulled back by a thick, white strand. Deadpool watched, fascinated, as a figure in a blue and red suit with a white spiderweb symbol on the chest began wrapping the man in the threads.

“Holy shit! It’s  _ Spiderman _ !” One of the goons crept up behind Deadpool and he landed a punch—that deformed the man’s face. 

[What’s that jaw made of, glass?]

“Hey Spidey! I haven’t killed anyone in your city!”  He noticed the man on the ground, not moving. “Oh, shit, you are still alive, aren’t you? Don’t make a liar out of me!”  He yanked the man on the ground, pulled him up to his ear, and listened. He heard the unmistakable sound of air rushing through tubes. “ Yup, still alive,” Deadpool said with satisfaction letting the other man drop to the rooftop.

Spiderman rose from a crouch and looked over at Deadpool. Unlike Deadpool, his mask wasn’t emotive, so Deadpool couldn't tell what Spiderman was thinking. “You must be Deadpool,” Spiderman said.

[He knows who we are!]

{Of course he does! He practically invited us!}

[We’re still going to kill him, aren’t we?]

{Are you nuts? He just saved us!}

[Yeah—but we didn’t need saving.]

{Not like he knows that!}

Deadpool just beamed at Spiderman. “Yes I am!” he said. “And I haven’t killed anyone in your city!” Spiderman walked over to Deadpool.

{I don’t think he’s happy.}

[We should just kill him now!]

Spiderman reached out, and gently touched Deadpool’s shoulder. “Good job,” he said.

[Did—did he just praise us? For  _ not _ killing people?]

{Not for not killing people, weren’t you listening? For not killing people in his city!}

[Still a first either way.]

“Bank robbery,” muttered Spiderman looking away from Deadpool. “At this time of night?” he asked. 

Deadpool couldn't see the hero frown, but could hear it in his voice. Deadpool bounced and clapped his hands. “Oh! Let me come too! I want to help too!” he said.

[He’s not going to want our help, dipshit.]

{Look, just because he invited us to the city doesn’t mean he wants our help.}

“All right,” Spiderman said grudgingly, “but let me call someone first.” He pulled out a phone, flipped it open (seriously, who still has a flip-phone in this day and age) and began to dial.

“A cabbie? A helicopter? Your lady friend?”

“ Police,” Spiderman said vaguely.

[Say what now?]

{Eh, if he tries to have us arrested we can just kill him. We were hired to do that anyway.}

Deadpool listened to Spiderman request both police and an ambulance for a criminal that was severely injured during the capture procedure. Then the spider closed the phone and tucked it into the suit—and there wasn’t even a bulge to indicate where it came from.  “Holy shit, and they say  _ I’m _ amazing. Well, never twice, but holy shit! Where, in that tightness, did you put a  _ pocket _ ?”

“ Are you going to be like this the whole way?” demanded Spiderman. “Because, if you are, you can find your own way to the bank.” He rattled off an address.

[Holy—not only did he  **not** call the cops on us, but he’s still letting us tag along!]

{I don’t think we can kill him now. Maybe Osborn? But not in this city.}

The spider had long since swung off. “Guys,” Deadpool said, “this nice thing—it’s only an act. I’ll kill him when he slips.” He grinned. “But until then—let’s see where this takes us!” He pulled out a grappling hook and fired it at the next building over so that he could swing like the spider towards the robbery.

 

^^^

 

The act didn’t fade. Spiderman not only let Deadpool patrol with him to help the police stop crime (although that was difficult in itself— _ trusting _ the  _ police _ ) he frequently thanked the merc for his help. It was—strange. Nice, but—strange. People had never really  _ thanked _ him before—not even the few people he knew who could listen to him without getting nervous.

That was another odd thing about Spiderman—he didn’t get nervous around Deadpool, not like other people did. Hell, just the other night a criminal had turned, seen Deadpool right beside Spiderman and literally wet his pants right there in fear. It was a given response—a  _ normal _ response. Deadpool was having trouble with Spiderman’s lack of response.

The blog was fun though. At first he hadn’t thought twice about it, posting about the night’s patrol under the rant section (and was oddly pleased that he wasn’t one of the people Spiderman ranted about)—until Spiderman began responding to  _ his _ posts which was—frankly terrifying. He wasn’t sure why it made him nervous.

And that day he was reading “Everyday Heroes” to see—himself. A post about how Deadpool, notorious mercenary and cold-blooded killer, waded into thick, NYC traffic to save a kitten that had somehow ended up in the middle of the street. The post was, like all the others in the Everyday Heroes section, short and sweet.

Only thing was, that incident happened in the broad light of day, and Spiderman had been nowhere around.

{He did tell us that he sees more than we think he does.} Yellow sounded anxious.

[He’s making us  _ feel _ again. That’s never good. We should just kill him and forget this whole thing.]

But—Deadpool didn’t  _ want _ to kill Spiderman. Hanging out with Spiderman was  _ fun _ . The hero would laugh at his jokes, praised him for not killing people (in New York City), and thank Deadpool for his help. It was nice, it was fun, and he didn’t want it to end yet.

[You’re right. We should wait to kill him until after he hates us.]

{Spiderman isn’t going to hate us!}

[ _ Everyone _ hates us; just give it time.]

Deadpool, alone in his crappy apartment (because, again—immortal and who cares), nodded. He would do that. White was right—everyone hated him eventually, and he could enjoy hanging out with the spider until  _ he _ hated Deadpool too. Then he could kill him.

 

^^^

 

It wasn’t until the capture of the giant green lizard that Deadpool realized that Spiderman—Spiderman wasn’t  _ going _ to hate him. In fact, Spiderman was  _ worried _ about Deadpool, about how casual Deadpool was with his own life. Staring at the ranting spider the mercenary came to an odd—and yet right—conclusion: Spiderman— _ cared _ . Spiderman cared more about Deadpool’s life than anyone else—including Deadpool. It was heartwarming, it was wonderful—and it was terrifying.

[Well, we can’t kill him  _ now _ .]

Spiderman’s rant ran down and Deadpool frantically searched for something to change the subject.  “You hungry? I know a  _ great _ Mexican place—open twenty-four hours!”

S piderman stared at Deadpool for a moment in silence.

{I don’t think he’s happy with us.}

[Let’s kill him now!]

Finally the hero heaved a huge sigh. “Yeah, sure. Why not?” he asked. The two of them walked to the restaurant, leaving the human that used to be a giant lizard in a box in the alley. They made the walk in silence, they ordered—and Spiderman pulled out his phone and started texting.

“Who are you texting?” asked Deadpool as he helped himself to some of the complimentary nachos.

“Mr s. Conner. We’ve worked out a system; I’m letting her know he turned again and where to pick him up.”

Deadpool stared at Spiderman, as if he hadn’t seen the hero before. “Spidey—are you helping someone  _ avoid _ the police?”

“Do you honestly think he’ll get the help he needs in prison?” Spiderman demanded. “Besides,” he added as the waitress (sadly, one of those that won’t serve alcohol without a photo ID) brought them their drinks, “he didn’t hurt anyone and honestly? That company  _ deserves _ a little cosmetic damage. Maybe  _ then _ people might see them for the monsters they really are.” Spiderman pushed his mask up to his nose and took a sip of the carbonated beverage.

“You should put that on your blog,” Deadpool said. He too, had pushed up his mask. Spiderman either pretended not to see—or really didn’t care.

[Don’t kid yourself—he’s being polite. Besides, it’s dark in here. It’s dark everywhere the two of you go to eat.]

{Maybe. He actually seems to like us.}

Deadpool watched the lower half of Spiderman’s face twist in a grimace. “I really just want to focus on more positive things in that blog.”  He gave a tiny smile.

“ Like saving kittens in traffic?” Deadpool’s voice was harder than he meant it to be.

The slight smile faded. “Do you mind?” he asked. “If you do, I’ll pull it off.”

[Whoa. He’s offering to  _ change his blog _ for us!]

{Forget killing him; you should marry him!}

“Eh, no, it’s fine,” he assured the young hero. While Spiderman had never given Deadpool an age it was clear the hero was young. Possibly even young enough to make him qualified for the “no children” rule—although Deadpool was kind of hoping  _ not _ . The waitress brought their food and walked quickly away. “I was just surprised. I didn’t see you anywhere around at the time.”

Spiderman smiled again. “I told you,” he said calmly, “I see more than you think I do.”

Deadpool couldn't let it go. “Then what about the ones that don’t have a good reason for what they do?” he asked thinking back to the days, not that long ago, when  _ he _ was one of those people. “What if they can’t change?”

The white eyes of the Spiderman suit met his calmly and the hero shrugged. “What if they can?” he asked.

 

^^^

 

A few days later he got a tip about a man he’d been chasing around the globe—and was on a bridge, at twilight, waiting.

{This might not be the best idea. Isn’t Spiderman waiting for us to patrol?}

[It’s Francis! We can’t let that bastard get away with what he did to us!]

“No,” Deadpool said, suit tight over scarred skin as memories of screams and pain washed over him for a moment. “We can’t.”

{We can’t kill him in the city! Spiderman  _ trusts _ us!}

[Easy—we knock him out, take him outside the limits, and  _ then _ kill him. Then we’re still not killing someone  _ in _ the city  _ and _ we can kill Francis.]

{I think Spiderman might object to that logic.}

[Then we kill him too.]

“We’re not killing Spiderman,” Deadpool muttered as the car his informant had told him about came into the street. “But we are,” he added grimly before getting into position to jump, “going to kill Francis.” He jumped into the car on the street below.

Something unexpected happened after he landed  on the car. Several other cars, nearby, braked and then surrounded him in a circle as he felt an odd stinging sensation in his neck. He reached up and pulled out—a dart with a plunger?

“Poor Wade,” said the smooth voice of Deadpool’s most hated enemy. The British accent almost brought back waking nightmares of torture. “Did you really think it would be that easy to kill me? I’m far smarter than you think.” The tall  man with his shaved head and hallow eyes stepped out of the car and grinned down at Deadpool.

Deadpool tried to focus—but the world was bleeding into color.

“Did you think you destroyed everything in the facility?” asked Francis, sounding warmly amused. “Oh, we still have all your data—and not even your healing factor can save you now.” Francis strode forward and gripped Deadpool’s chin—and Deadpool couldn't move. His arms were coated in lead. “This time,” the man said savagely, “you  _ will _ become a perfect little mindless slave.”

There were yells, shouts, and gunfire. Francis pulled his hand away and Deadpool  collapsed as the ground turned into a mass of technicolor bubbles with teeth. Teeth that wanted to rip into Deadpool—to rip him apart.

“Deadpool?” asked a familiar voice. ‘Oh, shit!”

[Not like…Spidey…to swear.]

{Ow.}

Deadpool’s world dissolved into nightmares. He had no idea how long they taunted him, haunting him. Making him live through the torture again. To watch his best friend, his only friend (before Spiderman) die again. 

He knew when the nightmares stopped though. He could hear birds chirping nearby. He opened his eyes—to see a young man—no, a young  _ teenage _ boy—right next to him.  He froze as he tried desperately to remember how this had happened.

The boy groaned slightly, opened brilliant amber eyes, and then leaned forward to place his cool, smooth forehead against Deadpool’s own.

[Oh my God! He’s touching our  _ skin _ !]

{Where’s the mask? Where’s the mask?}

Deadpool—was frozen. He knew his face was hideous and that he looked like some kind of old school movie monster. What if the boy realized it? Where had the boy come from? And where  _ was _ Deadpool for that matter?

“Good,” murmured the boy in satisfaction. “Your fever broke.”

“Fever?” asked Deadpool. He hadn’t had a fever since—not since the first time he saw Francis. Not since his healing factor had kicked in. Since he stopped being able to die.

The boy didn’t answer him, but rolled over and off the bed. “Aunt May,” he called as he padded from the room, “his fever broke!”

“What fever?” asked Deadpool again, his voice harsh and raspy. He rolled over, only to collapse back against the bed panting. His limbs felt like weak, overcooked noodles. “What happened?” he asked.

[Had something to do with that damn dart.]

{Weasel gave us up!}

Deadpool felt a brief wave of anger at the bartender/informant—that quickly drained away.  _ Of course _ Weasel had given Deadpool up the same way that Deadpool would have done the same to Weasel if their positions had been reversed.  Deadpool couldn't hate him for that.

[I’ll hate him for all three of us then.]

An old woman, dressed in a button-down the front blue blouse with faded blue jeans, came into the room and looked at Deadpool, mouth pressed into a thin line and eyes narrowed. “So you’re finally back with us. Well, Deadpool or whatever you call yourself, get dressed.” She gestured to a chair with clothes on it. “You’re just in time for breakfast.”

[Who is she to give us orders?]

{Where are we? And why do we feel weak?}

“Good question,” muttered Deadpool.  He looked up as the boy entered the room again. “Where am I?”

“My house,” the boy said calmly, as if he carried injured mercenaries into his home every day. Maybe he did. “I didn’t know where you lived and you needed help.” The boy frowned. “Aunt May used to be a nurse, so I thought—well, she knew what to do.”

“Wait,” said Deadpool, confused. “What?”

The boy blinked those huge amber eyes and then grinned. “Sorry,” he said, “I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Peter Parker. Also,” he added with a sly twinkle, “known as  Spiderman.”

Deadpool stared for a moment. What—Spiderman—here? Spiderman willingly _took Deadpool_ _home_? “How—how did you know I was on that bridge?” he asked warily.

“I keep telling you that I see more than you think I do,” the boy— _ Peter _ responded.

And Deadpool realized where he’d seen that face before. When he’d waded into traffic to save that kitten, that face had been on the sidewalk, watching him as he verbally abused the drivers who would run over a helpless little animal because they were in a hurry,  _ Peter _ had been one of the faces in the crowd. One of the few weren’t being exasperated with him. “You were there,” he said wonderingly, “that day I saved the kitten. But—I didn’t—I didn’t notice you.”

Peter, instead of taking offense, merely chuckled. “It’s an art to be unnoticeable,” he said. “I’ve been perfecting it for years.” 

Deadpool laughed a little breathlessly. He started to hold out a scarred hand, and hesitated.

[He’s already seen us.]

{And he’s not making gagging noises!}

Deadpool swallowed and held out his hand. “Wade,” he said introducing himself for the first time since the torture. “Wade Wilson.”

Peter gently took Wade’s hand, and then helped the man stand up. Wade wasn’t surprised—on one of their patrols he’d seen Spiderman lift and toss a huge concrete pillar from a parking garage that collapsed. Wade was more surprised by the fact he needed help getting dressed—since the healing factor kicked in he hadn’t been weak for longer than it took for him to come back to life. He also needed help getting down the stairs to the table—which was set with homemade waffles, fake maple syrup, and bowls of fresh fruit  next to tall glasses of juice .

It was a better meal than anything Wade had seen in  _ years _ . “Thank you,” he said as Peter helped him into a seat. 

The old woman—Aunt May—watched him with narrowed eyes for a moment. “I understand,” she said looking at him, “that you’re the reason Peter has decided to come clean about his—extra curricular activities.” Peter winced.

“I had no idea he was going to be there,” Wade protested.

“Of course you didn’t,” said the woman. “You don’t understand,” she said, “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. I’m saying that Peter has finally found a reason to  _ talk _ to me again.”

Peter winced. “Aunt May—” he began.

“Yes, I know—you were trying to protect me.” She snorted. “I have a better chance of not being in danger if I know that there  _ is _ danger!”

Peter shrank slightly. “Yes, Aunt May.”

She snorted. “Reckless child,” she muttered affectionately. The three of them sat down together and ate.

The experience was—novel. The closest thing Wade had to compare to it was those late night meals he grabbed with Spiderman. Prior to that Wade hadn’t had a meal in company—a meal eaten  _ with _ another person—since before the torture.

And no one at this table wanted to kill Wade, or torture him, or hurt him. It was—new.

Near the end of the meal Peter spoke up. “About that—man,” he said grimly, “that shot you with the dart. Francis.” Oddly enough Peter made the name sound like a curse and Wade looked up warily. Bright, amber eyes met his and he said grimly, “I told him he had twenty-four hours to get out of my city.”

“ _Don’t kill in my city.”_

Peter was giving Wade permission to go after Francis and finish the man off.

“That’s nice,” said Aunt May blithely, reminding both of them of her presence. “Peter, take the dishes to the sink and then take garbage. I want that bin by the curb for them to pick up.” Peter kissed his aunt on the cheek as he gathered the dishes and left the room. “He’s a good boy. We raised him well,” she said absently before turning to face Wade again. “As for you,” she said grimly. “You like him.”

It wasn’t a question, and Wade didn’t respond to it.

“If you kill that man, and I’m not going to say he doesn’t deserve to to die after the nightmares you had—”

What had Wade said in his sleep? How much did they know? He stared at the old woman and realized—she’d never tell him.

“—but if you kill him you will change the relationship you are building with that boy forever. Be prepared for that,” she said firmly as Peter came back into the kitchen.

 

^^^

 

A few weeks later saw Wade completely healed.

[Don’t you think it’s odd that we’re not calling ourselves Deadpool anymore?]

{No more odd than the fact we’re calling Spidey Petey.}

He found himself in Weasel’s bar, and if he’d had any doubts about the man’s information the way the bartender w ent completely white at the mere sight of him showing up would have killed them.

[I still say we should kill him.]

{Not in Peter’s city.}

[Eh.]

“Dead—Deadpool,” Weasel stammered. “How—how are you buddy?” He swallowed.

“A lot better than our mutual friend Francis wants me to be,” Deadpool said as he sat on one of the bar stools. He leaned on his elbows on the bar and looked over the bartender who looked nervous.

“I’m sorry man,” the bartender said. “I didn’t want—it’s nothing personal.”

Deadpool smiled. “Oh, I know,” he said cheerfully. “The same way I know that if our positions were reversed I would do the same thing. No, I came here because you’re going to do me a favor.”

“A favor?” asked Weasel.

“Nothing you haven’t done before. You’re just going to spread some information—for me this time.”

“And what—information would that be?” asked Weasel nervously.

“Anyone who tries to go after Spiderman will have to go through  _ me _ .”

Wade never did leave the city to hunt down Francis. After all, if Deadpool left New York—then who would protect Spiderman?


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arachne meets the other children for the first time since they were rescued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter--but the one before it was really long, so I think it's okay. Also--mind those tags. There will be references to child abuse in this chapter, and definitely peer pressure (let me know if I need to add a tag for that).

Arachne shifted nervously as she faced the other children. They’d all been in the Bad Place together—and they didn’t like her very much. She didn’t blame them—if she’d been them  _ she _ wouldn't like her very much.

Arachne watched them and wondered if they now had names too, like she did. If they did, did they get to pick their names, or were their names given to them by their new parents? She didn’t know. She was afraid to ask.

She knew them, of course, she knew all of them. She’d tried (and failed) to protect them—but she knew them. She knew the sharp-witted, agile redheaded girl (that was bigger than Arachne was).  The redheaded girl was almost as flexible as Arachne herself was. She knew the black-haired boy with the curly hair and his ability to dismantle and reassemble almost anything. She knew the brown haired boy with the soft voice and ability to turn green and grow twice his size.

She also knew their screams, just as they knew hers.

“What are  _ you _ doing here?” the redheaded girl demanded hotly.

“Her fathers’ are both busy in the training room,” the redheaded woman— _ Pepper _ , Arachne remembered—told them. “Now that you have a name, why don’t you introduce yourself?” Pepper asked keeping one hand on Arachne’s shoulder. That hand was the only reason Arachne hadn’t bolted.

“He—hello,” she said timidly. “My name’s—my name’s Arachne.”

The redheaded girl sneered. “That’s a  _ stupid _ name!” she said and Arachne flinched.

“ Sasha!” scolded Pepper.

“Well it  _ is _ !” insisted the redheaded girl. “So, what, she climbs like a spider and her name is Spider? In Greek?” The girl rounded on Arachne. “Well then,  _ your _ name should be Brown Recluse!”

“Sasha!” Pepper stared at the child, aghast.

Arachne was certain that the redheaded girl—Sasha—didn’t normally act like this. It was only because Arachne was in the room. She wanted to leave and find Peter and Wade—but Peter had asked her to stay with Pepper for a little while. And Pepper seemed to think this was important.

_ Is it important, or just convenient? _ The little voice in the back of her head whispered. Arachne didn’t like the little voice. It sounded too much like the Mean Lady.

But—Wade heard voices too. He even argued with them; she’d heard him. So maybe—maybe the voice was something she’d get used to, as she grew up.

“Ms. Potts, there appears to be a fire in the training room,” the ceiling voice said. 

“What are those idiots doing  _ now _ ?” demanded Pepper. She looked at the children and addressed the ceiling. “Friday, look after the young children while I go yell at the old ones.”

“Yes, Ms. Potts.” Pepper left the room and Arachne took a step back from the glare of Sasha.

The boy with the black curly hair watched her for a moment and then stepped in front of Sasha, blocking her view of the smaller girl. “He’s Brian,” the boy said pointing at the other boy and then jerked a thumb towards himself, “and I’m Howard. You,” he said taking a step closer to Arachne, “are real good at escaping.”

Sasha leaned over his shoulder. “What are you thinking?” she asked.

“I’m thinking we’ve been locked on this floor and I want to explore.”

Arachne took another step backwards and ran into the door. “We—we’re not supposed to,” she protested.

Sasha glared at her. “And?” she demanded. “When has that ever stopped  _ you _ ?”

“If you do it,” Brian said slyly, “we’ll be your friends.” He jerked a thumb towards Sasha. “She’ll even start to like you.”

Arachne swallowed. She knew that there must be a reason the children weren’t supposed to leave this floor of the Tower. It probably had something to do with their safety. 

She also knew she wanted the others to like her.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get a rough idea of what happened in the training room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, most of the gore in this one happened off screen, just so you know. And I think Deadpool is awesome.

“What, in the name of all the Heavens,  _ were you THINKING _ ?” roared Pepper as she stared at the broken training room. Bits of Deadpool were still splattered all over the room, the man himself healing quickly. The floor, walls, and ceiling were pockmarked with dents, burns, and odd places that looked like it had been melted. The Hulk was still in his corner, slamming the walls with his fists and making them bow away from him. Tony’s Iron Man suit was  cracked, covered in soot, and half the face-plate was gone. Spiderman’s suit hadn’t fared much better, but  _ Spiderman _ could dodge easier than Tony. Natasha, secret spy and assassin, had patches of soot on her, a few scratches, and her hair was mussed up.

Tony swung an arm (that shed bits of itself) towards Deadpool. “He started it.”

“Did not!” said Deadpool petulantly.

“Easy,” cautioned Spiderman as he helped the merc into a position that didn’t put weight on the tissue growing back. 

Spiderman ripped off his mask and became Peter again. “Deadpool insulted Tony,” Deadpool was  _ always _ insulting Tony, “Tony’s suit malfunctioned, and Hulk…” Peter’s voice trailed off as they turned to look at the Hulk, still pounding the wall.

Natasha calmly adjusted her weapons. “Peter and I mostly stayed out of the way. Deadpool got blown up.” She paused. “Again,” she added as an afterthought.

“Oh, I’d like to see  _ you— _ ” began Deadpool, very much upset. 

“ _ Enough _ .” Pepper glared at the lot of them. “That is quite  _ enough _ .”  She propped her hands on her hips. “My God, at least the  _ children _ have an excuse for being immature.”

“ But Deadpool just regenerates,” Tony said. Peter shot him a dark glare as Pepper growled.

“Deadpool  _ always _ regenerates,” she agreed, “but that. Is. Not. The. Point. Tony, did you forget that it’s going to take a day or two for him to recover from this?”

“Ah—”

“And that  _ his daughter _ , you know, the child he and Peter took in, is upstairs, at this moment?”

“Well—”

“How do you plan to explain this to her Tony?” demanded Pepper.

“ That is a good point,” Bruce said as he walked slowly back to the group, one hand on his sagging pants. “Pepper, I think I may need another belt.”

“Good to have you back, Dr. Banner,” Peter said calmly. A panel in the ceiling squealed as it opened and an extra belt dropped down.

“Thank you Friday,” Dr. Banner said politely.

“Anytime Dr. Banner.”

Bruce turned to Tony. “Tony, the child also has a high healing factor. I’ll spare you the details, but she was heavily experimented on. They all were.” He squinted and Pepper realized he didn’t have his glasses. She’d have to check to see if there was a spare pair. “ I think that if they were to see Deadpool as he is now—we’d all lose what little trust we’ve gotten from them.” His squinted gaze roams over to Deadpool. “Except for maybe you, since you’re clearly the one in pain.”

“Fuck you too,” Deadpool said wearily. The raw flesh at the bottom of his torso pulsed.

“Friday,” Pepper asked, “does Deadpool have a spare suit here?”

“No Ms. Potts. The spare was used two months ago after a particularly dangerous mission.”

“ I—ah, I have a spare pair of sweats,” Bruce said as the meaty pulp pulsed again and spewed out more of Deadpool.

“Ms. Potts,” Friday called from the ceiling, “there appears to be an issue with the children.”

“ Who’s watching them?” asked Natasha calmly.

“I am, Ms. Romanov,” said the computer.

Natasha turned and stared at Pepper. “You left four highly active and precocious children alone with only a  _ computer _ to watch them?”

“ You mean while I came down to check on the other five highly active and precocious children in the training room?” demanded Pepper.

“Ms. Potts,  I do believe the situation is getting urgent,” Friday commented.

Pepper sighed. “All right,” she said, “where are the children now?”

“They appear to be trapped in  the HVAC air outtake valve.”

“The one we installed with the deadly fan to prevent evil things from entering the building?” demanded Tony.

“Yes Mr. Stark. I am not certain how they managed to access it.”

They were moving; Peter having picked up Deadpool and slipped his mask back on. “How did they get off the floor?” demanded Pepper. She’d given the little brats an  _ entire floor _ to run wild on; how did they leave? None of them had access codes for the elevator and Friday wouldn't just open the elevators or the emergency stairs for them.

“Friday, how are they doing?” Peter demanded as they raced through the building.

“ Arachne has built a web to keep them from sliding further into the valve, and keeps trying to get them out of it but is unwilling to allow the web to fray too much.”

“Probably for the best,” Bruce commented. He pulled away from the group as they passed the labs, but Pepper didn’t think much of it.  She was more worried about the children.

“Friday,” Tony called as they reached the valve, “shut it down.”

“Yes, Mr. Stark,” Friday replied. They could hear the distinctive noise of the unit losing power.

“Should have thought of that earlier,” muttered Deadpool.

Tony spared a glare over his shoulder. “That is enough out of  _ you _ ,” he growled.

“Less talking!” ordered Pepper. She opened the maintenance hatch  and they looked down the wide pipe—wide enough for adults to get in and check on and maintain the fan inside. Four pairs of wide eyes stare at them. Spiderman leaps into the hatch, easily sticking to the smooth metal and hands the children out one at a time as Arachne dismantles her web. 

Tony, taking the children, gently put them on the floor outside. Arachne crawled up to Spiderman, on all fours and they both climbed out. Arachne stayed on the floor, on all fours, breathing heavily as the hatch was once again shut, locked, and the valve fan restarted.

Sasha broke away from Natasha’s hold and kicked the girl in the ribs. “This is  _ your _ fault!” she screamed as Arachne curled around the ball of webbing.

“Hey, hey,” demanded Natasha’s in what was (for her) a gentle voice. “What’s this about?”

Arachne made no sound as the two boys just watched and Sasha said nothing, just glaring at the child. “All right,” called Bruce as he walked up behind them. He put one hand on Sasha’s shoulder and another on Brian’s. “Come on,” he told the two of them, “we need to discuss just what happened.”

Natasha watched the whole thing with narrowed eyes as Tony pulled Howard aside and began interrogating him about the situation. Natasha remembered Peter’s question earlier about where Arachne was when she escaped and how the others  never asked about her. The assassin walked over to the child, still curled over the ball of webbing, dropped, and put a gentle hand on the child’s shoulder. “Are you okay?” she asked.

The girl sniffed, and looked up with wide eyes, bright with tears. “They don’t like me very much,” she confided.

“I see that,” Natasha said, acknowledging the change of subject. “Be careful,” she told the child with another gentle pat as she went to interrogate her own two.

Spiderman got down to where he was next to the girl. “What happened?” he asked gently.

She began to rock in place. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said desperately. She gasped a cry and continued. “I know we weren’t supposed to leave the floor.”

“Then why did you?” asked Spiderman gently.

“I—they said—they said they’d be my friends if I did,” she cried. Spiderman pulled her into a hug as she began to cry.

Deadpool managed to shuffle himself over to the two of them and put a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Let me tell you a secret.”  Deadpool’s manner was so serious that Pepper whirled to stare at the man who was normally like an overgrown child. “If someone places a condition like that on friendship, that person isn’t worth having as a friend.”

Spiderman looked up at him. “So you  _ were _ paying attention.”

“I always pay attention to you.” Deadpool didn’t look away from the child. “Do you understand?” he asked her. She nodded, and her gaze strayed to the throbbing, pulsing mutilated meat that was his body growing back. Her eyes widened. “Oh, don’t worry about this baby girl,” he said casually. “Tony just got a  _ little _ too enthusiastic in training.” Arachne’s eyes darted to Tony, widened more, and she plastered herself against Spiderman.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade and Peter go home and learn a little more about Arachne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, once again this is a dark chapter. (I know, but I couldn't help it.) Also, I know I usually post more when I'm off, but I'm fighting with my taxes right now. Posting schedule may get choppy as a result.

“Seriously?” Wade asked looking at the wheelchair.

[Just where did a wheelchair come from?]

{Forget the wheelchair. I wanna know where the fake legs came from.}

Tony sighed and Arachne, in Peter’s arms, flinched. She’d been twitchy around Tony since Wade made that comment about how Tony got a little too enthusiastic in training. She also hadn’t spoken since, and it worried him because he’d gotten used to the sound of her voice.

[Is she just not going to talk in front of Tony, or is she avoiding us as well?]

{Black Widow looks pissed as hell.}

Deadpool turned to see the Black Widow, a.k.a. Natasha Romanov behind him. She did not look pleased—but then she never did. “This was not her fault,” Natasha said coldly. “She was emotionally blackmailed into it.” She grimaced. “I’m trying to get them to understand why that’s wrong.”

“Well,” said Peter as he rolled the wheelchair over to Wade, “I’m sure none of us thought raising children would be easy.” He helped the grumbling mercenary into the chair.

[No, but it _is_ scary as Hell.]

{Is she sucking her thumb again? Should we tell her to stop?}

Deadpool reached up and gently pat the girl’s leg. She looked down with wide, frightened amber eyes, eerily reminiscent of the time they saved her from the lab. “It’s okay,” he said vaguely.

[How are we supposed to comfort a frightened child?]

{It’s easier when what’s left of our bottom half doesn’t look like mangled meat from a grinder.}

“Please don’t forget to explain why it’s wrong to explore past locked doors in this Tower,” Peter added. She grimaced.

“I’d like someone to explain the purpose of these,” Deadpool growled as he glared at the fake legs.

“We don’t want to give random passers by a heart attack Deadpool,” Tony said firmly.

“If they don’t have a heart attack from Deadpool dancing in the middle of the street,” Wade grumbled, “then they shouldn’t at this.”

Tony opened his mouth, but Pepper interrupted. “We dug these out for you to go home—and yes, we want you to rest a few days as well Peter.” Tony made a noise and Pepper glared at him before turning back to Peter. “In the meantime, we would appreciate it if you kept these things in good shape Deadpool; we borrowed the legs from a medic training facility and they would like them back in one piece.”

[What about the wheelchair? Can we blow up the wheelchair?]

{Probably not. There’s a sad lack of things going boom here.}

“All right,” said Peter. He propped the fake legs into the footrests of the chair, covered the lap with a blanket, and then put Arachne on top of the whole thing. She was still sucking her thumb, and she clutched Wade like a lifeline.

[That was low, Peter. Real low.]

{How are we supposed to kick these things off the wheelchair in the middle of the street if she’s on top of them like this?}

_I think that’s the point_. It bothered Wade a little that Peter was willing to play along, but he could also sense the other man’s nervous energy and eagerness to leave. “All right children,” called Deadpool. “Toodles!” Peter firmly wheeled him out of the building, across the street, and into their condo. When they were inside the door the girl didn’t move and still sat there holding him as she shook.

[She’s CRYING!]

{Why isn’t she making any noise? That’s disturbing.}

[Forget that, she’s CRYING! We need to make her feel better NOW!]

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Wade asked as he gently pushed her away from his chest so that he could see her face. Tears fell in silent streams down her cheeks and Peter was crouching there next to the chair.

“You’re hurt,” she said.

“Yeah,” admitted Wade, “but I’ll heal.”

“But it still hurts,” she said, still crying.

[How is she doing that?]

{This seems deeper than us just being hurt.}

“And it’s all my fault!” she wailed.

[Wait— _what_?]

{How is this _her_ fault? She wasn’t even there!}

Peter reached over and gently wiped the tears away. “Arachne,” he said gently, “why do you think it’s your fault Wade got hurt?”

“Be—because it—it’s al—always my fault,” she sobbed. “It was my fault back at the Bad Place, and I tried—tried to be good, but they were going to fail 27-IM, and I had—to—to try to save him!” she began sobbing incoherently and Deadpool hugged as Peter rubbed her back. The two looked at each other as they realized what she was saying.

Every time those bastards at the lab had thought that Arachne was “misbehaving” they’d torture one of the other children. Wade wanted to hunt them all down and kill them. Hell, he wanted to bring that bitch he _did_ kill back to life so he could take her apart piece by piece.

[Do you think she thinks we got hurt because she helped the others break out of the floor Pepper left them on?]

{Oh, we’ve got to fix this! We can’t have her blaming herself every time _we_ get hurt!}

[It happens way too much.]

“Hey,” Peter said softly as he pet the girl’s hair. “Listen, it’s not your fault that Wade got hurt.”

“Probably mine,” Wade said thoughtfully. “I did tell Rusty Iron to pull that stick out of his ass.”

“And no one was expecting the suit to malfunction,” Peter continued. “It’s _not your fault_.” She looked up and at Peter and Wade felt his heart start to break at the sight of the child’s face.

“And hey,” said Wade, “you know what?” She turned to look at him. “You _did_ save him. You saved all of them.”

She shook her head. “No I didn’t,” she said softly. “You did. All of you did.”

“But if you hadn’t been there, in that elevator,” Peter added, “we never would have known about the lab downstairs. It never would have occurred to us to even look. _You_ saved them.”

The tears, thankfully, stopped. “I saved them,” she repeated.

Peter smiled. “Yes you did. And you know what?” he asked as he wiped more tears off her face. “It doesn’t matter that they don’t realize that. What’s important is that _you saved them_.”

“I saved them,” she said wonderingly. She looked down at her hands, still holding the ball of webbing she’d pulled out of the valve. “I did.” She tossed the ball towards the garbage can only to have it bounce off the wall behind it and off another few surfaces before it rolled to a stop in the floor. “I didn’t know they could do _that_!” she said.

Peter and Wade laughed.

Later that night Wade stared at the ceiling from his bed. _Hey author_.

Yes Wade?

_What would have happened to her in the other story you stole her from?_

She would have escaped that night you found her, gotten taken in by a group of homeless people who took care of her until she was caught as a truant child at sixteen, placed in a home, and then drafted into the army to fight against the others in the lab that _didn’t_ escape and were being used as emotionless soldiers.

Wade’s breath hitched at the bleak description.

She would have ended up in battle where she recognized one of the others as a child that she’d lived with, been unable to kill him, and been killed as the emotionless doll that used to be a person stepped over her corpse without recognition to continue his mission.

_That’s horrible!_

Yeah, I didn’t like it either. This story is _much_ better.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Arachne go shopping and meet Wade's stylist (sort of).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All fluff this chapter. I think we all need it. :)

The first thing Peter decided to do with his time off was to teach Arachne how to read. She  _ absorbed _ the information like a sponge and it was only a couple of hours later he was helping Wade hide his inappropriate material.  She also taught herself basic mathematics from one of Peter’s old school books.

The next day Wade was able to toddle around a little on his stumps and Arachne was experimenting with her webbing. She could make regular bouncing balls, balls that bounced and then exploded into a web (Peter was still trying to figure out how she did it), and a web that could, with a tug to a single string, collapse into a ball.

Watching her play with her webbing reminded both Wade and Peter that the child had no toys. “We should take her to a toy store,” Wade whispered as Arachne bounced a ball against the wall of the hall with ever increasing speed. Clearly the girl  _ wanted _ to play.

“We need to do something,” Peter agreed as Wade answered his phone.

“Okay, wait, you need what now?” he asked. There was a moment’s pause and he stared at Peter, incredulity written on his face. “Hold on, let me ask my husband,” he said as he muted the phone. 

“What’s going on?” asked Peter as Arachne’s game picked up even more speed. She was almost a blur at the moment. 

“ You remember the store that made those fairy wings she wears all the time?” Wade asked. When Peter nodded he continued, “Apparently the artist wants to see Arachne.”

“Why?”

“Something about inspiration,” Wade said vaguely.  He chuckled. “I’ve met the artist, she’s almost as insane as I am.”

Arachne tripped over something in the hall and the ball of webbing she’d made beamed her in the head. “She probably needs to get out,” he admitted. Thirty minutes later the two of them (Wade wasn’t recovered enough to go out into public yet) were at the store and an odd woman was looking at Arachne. 

The woman had purple, blue, and pink stripes in her hair, which was pulled back. Her glasses were decorated with tiny fairy wings at the edges of the rims, making it look like they could take off and fly on their own. Her shirt was bright, neon orange, she had a sky blue jacket around her waist, and had finished off the look with faded black pants. Her shoes, running shoes, looked completely normal.

“Hi, I’m Coraline,” the young woman said.

“Peter.” Peter shook her offered hand and flinched. Her hand was oddly warm.

Coraline turned her attention to Arachne again. “Hello, there,” she said gently. She held out a hand. “I’m Coraline,” she said as she introduced herself again.

“Arachne,” the child introduced herself as she shook the woman’s hand.

Coraline chuckled. “Well, aren’t you a cute thing?” She turned to Peter. “So, where’s your husband? I had some slipper patterns I wanted to run by him. The stuff he likes sells  _ remarkably _ well—and if he  _ doesn’t _ like it, well, it’s not going to sell  _ at all _ .”

“Like the mermaid slippers?” asked the store owner.

“Those were great!” protested Coraline.

“And no one wants them.”

The odd woman sighed. “Yeah. No one wants them. So, kid,” she said turning to the child, “did you inherit your dad’s sense, or what?”

“I don’t know?” asked Arachne. Peter watched her, worried that she was going to get  frightened, but she just looked intrigued.

“Well, let’s find out,” Coraline said. “Let’s go shopping.”

A very bemused Peter found himself in a kid-centric shopping center with books, clothes, child-friendly science kits, and toys. Coraline had a pad and paper out and was making notes on what Arachne was interested in. At one point Arachne bounced one of the balls, stared at it for a moment,  and put it back.

“Don’t like balls?” asked the artist.

“The ones I make are better,” Arachne said.

Coraline nodded sagely. “I say that a lot myself,” she agreed.

One of the things Arachne picked up and didn’t want to put down was a stuffed unicorn almost as big as she was. Coraline paid for everything as “thanks for inspiration” and then they separated. “Huh,” said Peter as he watched the woman melt into the crowds, “you learn something new everyday.” He looked at the girl and grinned. “Ready to go home?” he asked.

Once at home the girl climbed onto Wade’s lap (still holding the unicorn) and babbled all about the shopping trip as Peter put the rest of the purchases in her room. It was the most the girl had spoken since the incident where Wade lost the bottom half of his body. She talked until she collapsed from exhaustion, in mid-sentence. 

Peter came back out and smiled at the sight. She was curled up, head pillowed on Wade’s chest, both arms clutching the unicorn, and out like a light. Peter came over and sat on the couch next to them and asked, “Mermaid slippers, huh?”

Wade shuddered. “Be glad,” he said, “that you will never see those abominations of fabric. I have no idea what possessed her to make them in the first place.” Suddenly he shifted. “Uh, Peter, I kind of have to—”

Peter chuckled, picked Arachne up (who flopped against him still gripping the unicorn) and Wade scurried off to the bathroom. “Come on,” he told the child as he took her to her room and put her into bed. She burrowed slightly under the covers, still clutching the unicorn, and smiled.

“Hot damn, that’s adorable,” Wade said from the door.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A beautiful morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So--more fluff. I thought it was sweet.

 

Arachne stood on a chair in the kitchen watching Wade mix the pancake batter. “You’ve got to make sure it’s thoroughly mixed,” Wade told her, now the he was finally well enough to cook. She nodded, fairy wings flapping  as she bounced to get a good look.

Peter smiled at them before he submitted his report. True, Wade was back to one-hundred percent again—but he didn’t want to go to work. He sent a quick email to Pepper who sent one back saying she understood and would make sure Tony did too.  It was in good hands.

After breakfast Arachne sprawled on the floor with her coloring pencils (she had gotten a larger, more elaborate set at the toy store) and her sketchbook (still the one she’d gotten from Aunt May). Peter and Wade sat on the love seat in front of the television while an old episode of The Golden Girls played. During commercial he couldn't handle his curiosity anymore. “Arachne,” he said, “what are you drawing? Do you mind if I look?”

She rolled over and looked at him, eyes narrowed in thought. “Do you  _ want _ to?” she asked curiously. 

“Of course!” Wade replied. “We want to know everything about you!”

“Okay!” In a flash Arachne was on the couch between the two of them and she had the sketchbook open to the first page. In bright, vivid color, Deadpool was cutting the head off a monster with his sword.  The monster had snakes for hair.

For a small child her sense of perspective was excellent.  Deadpool had been about a foot and a half taller than the woman he killed, and it looked about right in the picture. Peter thought the slight bloodstains on the woman’s white lab coat and the snake coming out of her dead mouth were a particularly nice touch.

Wade went absolutely still as they looked at the girl’s picture. Peter knew the man was still having trouble with the fact that he’d killed after so long of not killing anyone, and he reached over Arachne to give his husband’s shoulder a fond squeeze. Wade looked up at him, confusion on his face.

Before Peter had a chance to address it Arachne turned the page to the next picture.  This one was of Peter, sitting at the table, huge stack of pancakes in front of him.  He was holding a fork and the picture looked like he was staring right at the person looking at it. The quality of this one, compared to the first one, was astonishing.

The picture after that was Wade, in his blue silk pajamas, picking up a pile of pancakes. Every scar was carefully picked out and highlighted, but instead of making the man look hideous he looked—charming. Almost adorable. And there was a softness, a kindness that was visible in the picture. It was miles above the one that preceded it.

Then there was Deadpool with a shopping cart. One foot on the cart, one in the air, looking up at the viewer. There was an odd sense of playfulness in the picture that made Peter’s breath catch.

The next picture was also Deadpool. He was sitting on the couch. The coloring implied that it was late evening. The expression on the mask was confused.

The next one was Spiderman. He was standing just inside a structure, broken glass all around him as purple blobs fell outside the structure.

Then there was Aunt May, on her couch, walking boot on her foot. Aunt May looked kind and regal. There was a slight shadow around her eyes that gave the impression of old sorrow. As with Wade’s scars, every wrinkle was picked out with careful deliberation. 

The next picture was of the three children now living in the tower. This one was a lot darker and sharper than the other ones. The redheaded girl, Sasha, was holding her head high and glaring with a hatred that made Peter hesitant to look at her too long. The boy, Howard, had an expression that cold, cruel, and calculating. The other boy, Brian, looked nervous. Sasha’s hair was picked out perfectly and every strand had its own shadow. There was something odd about Howard, something that made him look apart from the rest of the picture somehow. And the boy Brian had faint green showing at his bare knuckles and along his exposed neck.

The last picture, the one she was currently working on, looked like a vague sketch of the floor piano in the toy store. “Is this from yesterday?” he asked touching the picture delicately.

She nodded, clearly relaxed and happy. “We danced on the keys,” she said fondly. Then she frowned. “I haven’t figured out movement yet.”

“Well, feel free to take your time,” said Peter and she hopped off the love seat to lie back on the floor, working on the picture. After a moment she put her pencil down and wandered off down the hall.

“ She made me look good,” Wade said softly.

Peter reached over and pulled him close. He gave his husband a swift kiss on the cheek. “You always look good,” he said.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deadpool takes Arachne on a field trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I kind of wrote this in a hurry. Feel free to point out any mistakes.

“No,” Peter said flatly into his phone. Both Arachne and Wade turned to look at him. “Yes, I know _that—_ no, as a matter of fact, I haven’t.” Peter scowled and Arachne got up to go to Wade, looking anxious. “I—all right.” Peter sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, like he was starting to get a headache. “Yeah, I’ll be there. No, I’m _not_ going to the Tower; I don’t start work until tomorrow and I’m not setting foot there until then.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be at the scene. Well, tell the rest of them that they can just catch up.” He firmly closed the phone. “And Tony had better have turned off that Emotional Feedback System,” he muttered.

“Got to go hero?” asked Wade.

Peter sighed again and went over to the love seat where the two of them were. “Yeah. There are more of those blobs popping up and since I was the one who figured out where they were last time—” He shrugged. “Besides, they also want me to spin webs to catch as many as I can. Not that it’ll help,” he added. “When those things come into contact with my webs they turn pink and burn through.”

“Do you want me to help?” asked Arachne. “I’m pretty fast at spinning.”

[She is at that.]

{No, we don’t want a child where things randomly explode. Especially not _this_ child.}

Peter reached over and tousled her hair. “I know that, but I don’t want to find out if you’re also good at dodging,” he said firmly. “The blobs explode. The most important thing is that you stay safe.”

“Aye, el capitano,” said Wade with a salute.

Peter grinned and kissed him. “Stay safe, both of you,” he ordered before getting his suit and leaving. He always waited until he was a few blocks away before changing into his Spiderman costume.

“Is he going to be okay?” asked Arachne.

“Of course! He’s _Spiderman_ ,” Wade said. “Besides, the rest of the merry crew will do anything they need to protect Peter.” They knew how much the man meant to Wade—and that he was perfectly capable of destroying the city. Which, Wade realized he wouldn’t anymore—not as long as Arachne was safe.

[Seems odd. I mean, villain attacks don’t really repeat unless it’s relevant to the plot.]

{We need more information.}

“We do,” Wade said with a nod. “Baby girl, how do you feel about a field trip?”

She tilted her head to one side, eyes narrowed as she considered. “What’s a field trip?” she asked.

Wade was startled to realize that she’d never been to school. Of course she didn’t know what a field trip was. “A field trip is where we go somewhere and have fun—strictly for educational purposes.”

“Like the trip to the toy store so that Coraline could see what I like? She said she’s working on making a new series for children.”

“Just like.” Wade smiled. “We’re going to visit some of my friends—”

[Hah! You call _them_ friends? _He_ ratted you out!]

{It was only the once and he did spread the word not to touch Spiderman.}

[I still hate him.]

“And I’m going to ask them some stuff. So! Let’s get ready.” Arachne nodded, went to her room, changed her clothes, and came back out. She was wearing a light pink dancing leotard with a dark pink tutu and the ever present fairy wings. She was also wearing her dress shoes.

“Is it okay if I bring my ball?” she asked as she tossed it from hand to hand.

Wade recognized it as one of the ones she’d made from her webbing. “Sure,” he said. He was already in his Deadpool suit. “Let’s go,” he said holding out a hand. She took it and they walked down to the elevator.

She stared around, eyes wide in wonder, as the neighborhood they walked through steadily got shadier and shadier until they reached a certain building.

[Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.]

{Yeah, this place is always violent. What if we walk in while someone's killing someone else?}

“It’ll be fine,” Deadpool told the boxes as they walked in.

Weasel looked up from the bar and his eyes widened. “Deadpool, what the fuck? You brought a _child_ here?”

“This is my child,” Deadpool said as he made his way through the smoky atmosphere towards the bar. “And I came to see all my friends.” A chorus of snorts and chuckles went up among the inhabitants. The only reason no one tried to kill him—they all knew he wouldn't die. He set Arachne up on the bar. “Tell the man what you want to drink, Sweetie,” he said.

Arachne turned her wide amber eyes on Weasel. “May I have some juice, please?” she asked politely.

“Oh! How sweet!” said one of the ever-present hookers as she sashayed up to the table. This one was wearing a pink sequined dress that looked like it had been glued on. “What’s your name, Sweetie?” she asked with a sly look at Deadpool.

“Arachne,” the child answered. “May I have your name, please? And your dress is really pretty.” Arachne reached out and gently touched one of the sequins. “It’s so sparkly,” she added.

The hooker squealed and picked the child up. “You are such a sweetheart!” she said. “Weasel, put her drink on my tab. Come on Sweetie, let me introduce you to my coworkers.”

Deadpool watched with amusement as the hookers and female mercenaries flocked around the child. She was in good hands.

[Certainly well painted ones. Any chance of luring Weasel out of the city so we can kill him?]

{He’s too useful to kill.}

“Got that right.”

Weasel sighed as he began cleaning a glass. “I don’t even want to know what your voices are saying,” he said. “Why are you here, Deadpool?”

“I came for the same reason I always come Weasel,” Deadpool said with a grin. “I need information. And yes,” he added when Weasel opened his mouth, “I’ll pay for it. I always do.”

“You always do.” Weasel sighed. “Information on what?”

Deadpool glanced over at Arachne. It seemed that one of the female mercs was teaching her how to pick locks.

[Is that a good idea? She’s already a bit of an escape artist?]

{I think it’s a great idea to make sure she can’t be locked up again.}

“Someone keep summoning blobs that explode. Any idea why?” asked Deadpool turning back to the bartender.

“You _would_ ask a hard one. Okay, word is that someone is trying to use those blobs to build a gate.”

“A gate?”

Weasel shrugged. “No one knows what for,” he said. “Just that they’re trying to build a gate. And the first wave of blobs,” he added, “were a fluke.”

Deadpool looked back towards Arachne at the sound of several gasps. The girl was on the floor and had lifted the table to get something that had rolled underneath the joined legs. There were currently two hookers sitting on said table and Arachne didn’t even look like she was straining. She got the item, put the table back down, and crawled back out.

“Oh, ho _ly_ shit,” swore Weasel staring at her.

Deadpool only grinned. “Told you she was mine.”


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arachne tells Peter about the field trip and Wade has a conversation with the author.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a little bit longer than usual. Hopefully the length doesn't keep people from reading it. Hope you enjoy.

Wade, in his Deadpool suit, sat in Tony’s office. Arachne was in his lap, because once she learned where he was going she refused to let go of him and as he and Peter could vouch—once she clung to something there was no removing her until she let go. Peter was standing in the corner of the office, and Wade could tell that he was he was hiding a smile.

[You’d think the little girl didn’t trust Tony.]

{She probably still thinks he blew us up on purpose.}

Wade didn’t want to talk about it. He kept his voice on the subject at hand. “So, after a little bit of digging I found out that not only is someone trying to build a gate—the same gate that keeps letting explosive little blobs through—but they tried to hire mercs to guard it. Key word being tried—no one’s willing to touch _that_ job.”

Tony rubbed his hand over the small beard on his face. “And just _where_ ,” he asked wearily, “did you get this information?”

“Where else?” asked Wade with a shrug, Arachne still clinging to the red leather.

Tony’s face suffused with red. “You took a _child_ to that God-forsaken—”

Peter came around and stepped in between Tony and Wade. “Arachne,” he said, “what happened last night?”

Arachne was always willing to answer Peter.

[And us too, don’t forget that she likes us too.]

{ _And_ she’s adorable.}

“We went on a field trip,” Arachne said. The last two words were spoken like a foreign language. “Wade said that a field trip is where you go out to have some fun strictly for educational purposes, like that trip with Coraline.”

“Good God, is that psycho back in town?” groaned Tony.

Peter ignored the outburst. “He’s not wrong,” he said. “So, did you have fun?”

Arachne’s face lit up. “Oh, yes!” she said. “We got there and the skinny guy behind the bar yelled at Wade but the pretty lady—she said her name’s Andrea—came over to talk and she has a really nice and soft, furry kind of voice and was wearing a pretty dress and she says that it’s okay for a woman to wear a little girl’s dress because some people like it like that—and she didn’t explain that,” Arachne added with a frown, “but Domino said it was okay because I’m not old enough to need to know and Elektra taught me how to pick locks.”

“How to _what_?” shrieked Tony.

Arachne paused and looked concerned. “Don’t worry about Tony, Arachne,” he told her calmly. “Please, continue to tell me about the night.”

“Well—I brought out my ball,” she said. “Wade said I could take one with us when we left and I was showing them how high I can make it bounce—I made one bounce twenty feet!—when it rolled under a table and I got it out by picking up the table and they all wanted to know how much I could lift so they kept piling people on a table until the table broke and while a couple people got hurt nobody died.” Arachne took a breath and added, “And the skinny man gave me white-yellow apple juice.”

“Pineapple juice,” Wade corrected.

Arachne frowned. “Is that a different fruit?” she asked turning to look at Wade.

[That’s so cute!]

{Uh, how is she supposed to know what fruit looks like? Has anyone taught her?}

“Yes,” said Wade, “it is a very different fruit.”

“Oh. Tastes good though,” said Arachne focusing on the important thing.

“Yes, pineapple juice does taste good,” Peter admitted. “Arachne, do you remember the way to the cafeteria? Not the one that everybody uses,” Peter added hastily, “but the one that only the people on the top floors use?”

“Yes,” Arachne said.

Peter dug in a pocket and pulled out a card. “All right. Go to the cafeteria and get some juice. Try some different kinds, and hand this to the woman working the counter. Okay?”

She looked at Wade and back at Peter. She seemed hesitant. “It’s okay,” Wade told her.

Peter smiled at her. “Are you worried about him getting hurt again?” he asked. She nodded, hesitantly. “Don’t worry,” he told her. “I won’t let Tony hurt Wade.”

[I think we’re about to get yelled at.]

{For what? What did we do wrong?}

Arachne still hesitated. Tony spoke up. “Pepper and Friday have Sasha, Brian and Howard secure in the penthouse Arachne. They won’t be in the cafeteria.”

“Okay,” said Arachne. She took the card from Peter. “Friday?” she called to the ceiling.

“Yes, Arachne?”

“Would you please keep an eye on me? To make sure I don’t get lost?”

“It would be my pleasure Arachne. Rest assured, I have been well programmed to do multiple tasks at a time.”

“Thank you Friday.” Arachne got off Wade’s lap, politely bowed (something she must have picked up from one of the female mercs at the bar) and then calmly left the room.

As soon as the door shut Peter spoke up, keeping his voice down. “I could have sworn I asked the two of you to stay safe,” he said.

“We did!” protested Wade.

“You think taking her Sister Margret’s is staying safe?” demanded Peter.

“No one would dare hurt her there!” Every mercenary in Sister Margret’s had a single, iron-clad rule: no children. No matter what happened and if anyone broke that rule, well, there would be dozens of mercenaries willing to explain to the bloody corpse why that was a bad idea. With random bits of the city exploding Sister Margret’s was probably the absolutely safest place Arachne could be.

Tony scoffed a laugh as Peter hung his head in his hands.

[It feels like we did something bad.]

{But what did we do? We’re right about Arachne’s safety—no way would we compromise _that._ }

“Wade, how many people die in fights at Sister Margret’s?” asked Peter. Wade shifted nervously as he recognized the tone of voice—it was the tone that said, “I’m only being patient because I know you sometimes have trouble understanding how normal people act.”

“I don’t know.”

“Usually three a night. _Three_ dead bodies a _night_ Wade,” Peter pressed. He sighed. “Wade,” he asked, “what would have happened if one of them had died while Arachne was there?”

Wade felt a chill roll down his spine. Where Arachne came from, people died because they were “failed” experiments. And given how she felt that people getting hurt was her fault if she _had_ seen someone die—

[She would have been traumatized.]

{Damn, we got lucky.}

Wade leaned forward in the chair. “I didn’t think of that,” he admitted.

“You didn’t _think_ ,” said Tony.

“Tony,” said Peter warningly.

“Hey,” said Tony, “it’s fine. At least the one you’ve got isn’t a soulless little monster willing to use anyone and anything to get what she wants.”

“So—Howard takes after you?” asked Wade. Peter shot him a quick glare and he shrugged.

[He can’t expect us to _not_ rib Tony.]

{It’s practically a sport!}

“That’s what Pepper said,” Tony said wearily. Peter moved to stand next to Wade and Wade could see the man searching through his desk drawers. “Problem is that the two Nat and Bruce have are just as bad. Dammit,” he swore as pulled out a liter bottle of ginger ale with a note that said, “Try Me” on it. “I thought she didn’t know about this one.”

“Pepper’s been your secretary for the last fifteen years and dating you for ten of them,” Peter pointed out. “I don’t think there’s a lot about you that she doesn’t know.”

Tony sighed and put the bottle back in the drawer before slamming it shut. “Be glad you’ve only got the one,” he said.

_Oh! Author!_

What now Wade?

Can _Peter and I have another kid?_

No.

_Why not?_

Because that’s not possible in the AU that this story is written in.

_What? Those little shits from that manga get that, but_ I _don’t?_

Don’t you dare bring _that_ story into this. The settings are completely different.

_But author—_

Don’t whine Wade.

_But—_

No.

_Why not?_

It won’t _fit_ , that’s why not. This story has an established set of rules and logic and I am not going to introduce mpreg out of nowhere.

_What about_ another _story?_

Wade. I only agreed to write one of them. Remember?

_Ah, come on. Just think—you won’t have to search for ideas. It’ll already be there._

Okay, I’ll make a deal with you.

_Let’s hear it_.

If _anyone_ , and I mean _anyone_ , comments and asks for it, I’ll write it.

_Awesome!_

But—it will be in a universe without the Marvel powers, which means it won’t be a Spideypool story. It will also be complete and utter fantasy, because that’s _my_ genre. Also, you won’t be aware in it.

_If you’re going to do that I want Peter to rescue me!_

Fine. Can do. But remember, someone has to say they’ll read it.

_What? Who wouldn't want to read something with me in it?_

I think you are seriously overestimating the selling power of Wade Wilson without Deadpool. And I finish this one first. I am not working on more than one of these at a time.

“Deadpool, are you listening?” demanded Tony.

“No,” said Wade with complete honesty. “I was asking the author if Peter and I could have more kids.”

“What?” asked Peter, confused.

“She said ‘no’,” Wade explained.

“So the world does have small mercies,” muttered Tony.


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arachne and Pepper have a talk, and Pepper shares some big news with the child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is a little short of a chapter. (It took a little bit of rewriting to make it like I want it.) Also--slight trigger warning. No actual abuse or death, but passing mention of it. I mention it because sometimes a casual passing mention is more triggering than reading a vivid account. So--be warned.

 

Arachne’s eyes were wide as she tried to stare at  _ everything _ on the way to the cafeteria. She’d already figured that people didn’t mind when she did that, as long as she didn’t stare at one thing for too long. And anyway, the people (most of them) were pretty nice here.

She stopped when she heard a noise.  _ I know that sound _ , she thought with a frown.  _ I’ve made that sound…  _

She turned to follow the noise. “Arachne,” Friday commented, “that is not the way to the cafeteria.”

Arachne paused. Should she investigate? She knew what the sound  _ used  _ to mean, but it wasn’t something she’d heard people make—here. “Friday,” she said, “I hear something and I want to investigate. Please tell me if I’m about to go somewhere I’m not supposed to be?”

“Of course Ms. Arachne. I believe the source of the sound you’re investigating is in the women’s restroom, down the hall third door on the left.”

“Thank you Friday,” Arachne said firmly as she followed the computer’s directions.  Sure enough, the sound was getting louder—slightly. If Arachne hadn’t been who she was she never would have been able to hear it.

Inside the restroom (which was apparently the word for a room that had multiple toilets and no bath) was Pepper. Pepper was huddled against the wall, crying and Arachne went over to her. She didn’t know what could possibly make the woman cry (although  _ she _ personally blamed Sasha, Howard, and Brian), but she knew that someone who was crying needed comfort. How did Wade and Peter comfort her when she was upset?

Arachne walked over to Pepper and hugged her—careful not to hug her too tight, because most humans weren’t as durable and Peter and Wade which was something she knew  _ very _ well. She tucked her head on Pepper’s and gently rocked. “It’s okay,” she said vaguely. She wasn’t sure if everything  _ was _ okay, but that seemed to be what people said. 

Pepper’s arms snaked around Arachne and she began to cry harder.  Arachne didn’t know how long they were like that before Pepper pulled back. “What’s wrong?” Arachne asked. She didn’t think Pepper would be comfortable if she was standing while Pepper was sitting, so she got on the floor too.

“It—it’s nothing major.” Arachne waited patiently as Pepper wiped tears off her face—carefully, so as to avoid messing her makeup more than it already was. “I just—I just got some news,” she said.

“What kind of news?” asked Arachne. It must have been really bad to make a grown woman like Pepper cry.

“I—I’m expecting,” Pepper said vaguely.

Arachne, whose sole exposure to this sort of thing was television and Peter’s old biology books, gasped. “A  _ baby _ ?” she asked. Pepper nodded. “That’s wonderful!” Arachne said.  Pepper stared at the child as she enthused on all she knew about babies—which wasn’t all that much. She knew they cried in the middle of the night, that people who had babies on TV always looked tired, and that they looked soft and warm and helpless. Even the Bad Place had been delicate with babies. 

Pepper chuckled. “Well, at least  _ someone's _ excited,” she said wryly. “Howard wasn’t nearly so excited.”

Arachne thought about it and tried to see the world from Howard’s point of view. It was something she did a lot. “Maybe,” she said slowly, “he’s afraid he’s being replaced?”

“What?” Pepper looked at Arachne.

“In the Bad Place,” Arachne said, “there were only babies when one of the experiments was about to be failed.  They always told us which one it would be and if something happened to make them change their minds—the baby disappeared.” She looked at Pepper. “ _ I _ know that it doesn’t work like that here; Wade and Peter made sure to tell me. Oh!” she said suddenly excited. “Do you think that  _ they’re _ about to have a baby too?”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Pepper said slowly.

Arachne shrugged. It would have been nice to be a big sister—but it was okay if she wasn’t. She was too happy to be picky about something like that. “Are you okay now?” she asked the woman.

Pepper laughed and stood up. “Yeah,” she said. “I’m okay.” She paused and looked at the girl. “But this is a secret,” she told the child seriously. “I need to be able to tell everyone in my own time.”

“I won’t say a thing!” Arachne said brightly. She waved goodbye to Pepper and left the bathroom before asking, “Friday, will you please guide me to the cafeteria? I don’t think I can find it from here.”

“Of course, Arachne.”


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepper has a plan and everyone else will follow it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I feel the need to point out something and explain something else. 1) I've never been NYC. Some of these descriptions are going to be wrong and impossible. I understand that. I'm blaming all differences on the fact that not only is this an alternate universe (or AU), but that things in this story blow up on a regular basis. The map is *going* to be different than that of our NYC. Just saying.
> 
> 2) (And I'm explaining this because I honestly don't know if this is something that used to be nation wide or if it was just localized in my area when I was kid) I used to go to these things known as Petting Zoo Fairs (and I don't know if that's the official term or just what my family called it--I was young.) What happened was this: a street section roughly equivalent to one or two city blocks would be blocked off (or a section of a particularly large parking lot) and there would be a petting zoo (complete with a keeper to buy food from to feed the animals--which were usually camels, lamas, sheep, and goats), food stalls (hot dogs and lemonade, respectively), souvenir stands (usually with merchandise depicting the animals in the zoo), and either a DJ with huge speakers or a live band with huge speakers. Now, the last one of these I've seen was back in 2005, so my memory may be a little hazy, but I'm keeping as close as possible. (Side note--if you know what they're called and I've got it wrong, let me know and I'll fix the name in the story.)
> 
> And speaking of the story--on with the action!

Pepper scanned the group in front of her. Deadpool and Peter, already prepped for the meeting, were standing behind her. She could tell that they were amused. Well, Deadpool was more than amused, he’d actually helped her brainstorm for this. She’d been surprised at how much he knew.

“All right,” Pepper said as she surveyed Natasha, Bruce, and Tony. “I talked to Arachne and I came to a very important conclusion.”

“This can’t be good,” muttered Tony as he shifted.

She smiled. “That depends on what you consider ‘good’,” she told him. She’d told him the same thing millions of times before. “Arachne is happy, well situated, and adores her dads. We all know that the other three children are anything but.”

“And you have a solution to this conundrum?” Natasha asked.

“I do. All three of you are taking time off for the next three days to spend time and bond with your children.” The three adults in question stared at her for a moment.

“That’s very nice Pepper,” Tony said slowly, “but how exactly do you propose we do that?”

“I wasn’t sure myself,” Pepper said, “but Deadpool had some ideas.”

“Oh,” said Deadpool, “they’re great ideas!”

All three adults looked apprehensive. “Don’t worry,” Pepper said. “I checked them out and they’re all good ideas.”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” muttered Deadpool. “No I don’t!” he added petulantly.

“Quiet White,” scolded Peter automatically.

“This is all very nice Pepper,” Tony said, “but aren’t you forgetting something? We all have jobs.”

Pepper smiled and Tony flinched. He recognized that, “You are on thin ice right now and you don’t want to break it,” smile. He’d seen it before.

“Bruce,” Pepper said looking at the scientist in question, “Peter has informed me that your experiments are all in a redundant stage that can easily be recorded and your more—delicate—research is at a stopping point. You can be spared for a few days.”

She looked at Natasha. “I realize you take great pride in our security,” she said, “and Deadpool has assured me that he can protect the building without blowing it up.”

A single ginger eyebrow rose. “And you believe him?”

“I’m choosing to.” Pepper turned to the last adult in the room. “Tony, the company can survive without you for a few days. I can handle almost anything you can, and I can postpone anything else for a few days.”

“I don’t mean to put a damper on your—plans, Pepper,” said Bruce, “but if Peter’s working the lab and Deadpool’s working security—who’s going to be looking after Arachne?”

The door behind them opened and a familiar, balding man entered. “Sorry I’m late Pepper,” he said with a shy grin.

Pepper smiled right back. “You’re just in time Agent Coulson.”

 

^^^

 

“So,” Tony told Howard, the child he’d named after his father, “I decided to install an emotional feedback system.”

Howard stood at the glowing table next to Tony as he showed the blueprints for the chips. “Sounds like it should have worked,” the boy commented. “What happened?”

Tony snorted. “The same thing that always happens. Deadpool happened. He said something that pi—upset me, and the suit went haywire.”

“Oh.” Howard stared at the board for a moment. “What if you added an override control? One that could tell the difference between enemy and annoying?”

Tony looked speculatively at the board on the table. “Now there’s a thought…”

 

^^^

 

Natasha and Sasha stared at the building in dismay. Hundreds, if not thousands, of pop fans were swarming, just waiting to be allowed inside to see the latest pop star sensation. “This is—a lot of people,” Sasha said with a frown.

Natasha sighed. “It is,” she admitted to the child.

“Why are we doing this again?”

“Pepper things it would be ‘fun’,” Natasha said.

“Fun,” echoed the child staring as a couple of fans (showing that the root word was really “fanatic”) began attacking each other over a spot in line—a spot in line that was more than two meters away from the door to an event where seats were assigned by ticket numbers.

Natasha sighed. “Pepper is the closest thing to normal we have,” she told the girl. “She keeps us—well, grounded, so to speak. She reminds us that we’re human too.”

“So we’re here at a concert that neither of us want to attend because she thinks it will be good for us,” observed the girl. “Why don’t we just tell her we went?”

Natasha sighed. “We would—if it was Pepper who got the tickets. Unfortunately, Deadpool got the tickets and he’ll know if we don’t go.”

“How did he get them?” asked Sasha with curiosity.

“It’s Deadpool,” Natasha said flatly. “Eventually you stop asking.” She sighed and let the way to the end of one of the lines. “Come on,” she said reluctantly. “Maybe this won’t be so bad.”

 

^^^

 

Bruce stared at the street unhappily. It was an impromptu fair of some kind with animals for feeding, petting, stalls for food and drinks, games, and other things. It was crowded. Just looking at all of those people packed into the small place made him itch and want to run screaming from the thing.

“What is this?” asked Brian as he looked around apprehensively.

Bruce didn’t blame him. He was apprehensive too. “I think they said, it’s a traveling zoo?” he said hesitantly.

Brian frowned. “Zoos have all kind of restrictions on them,” he said slowly. “Is this sort of thing even allowed?”

Bruce didn’t really know. “Well,” he said, “no one is getting arrested.”

Neither of them took a step closer. “It looks—very crowded.”

Bruce nodded unhappily. Couldn’t Deadpool have recommended anything quieter? “It is.”

“I suppose—I suppose we have to.”

Bruce heaved a sigh. “Yes,” he admitted.

 

^^^

 

“So what do you think of the helicarrier?” asked Agent Coulson as he led Arachne through the huge thing.

Her eyes were wide and shining with wonder as she looked around. “I’ve never seen anything like it!” she responded. The agents they met smiled at the little girl in the bright blue tutu with the pink and purple fairy wings covered in blue glitter. Glitter, Coulson couldn’t help but notice, that didn’t fall off or stick to anything else. He wondered where the wings came from. Having dealt with children before, he knew the perils of glitter firsthand.

He took her though the hold and to the holding center where they were currently keeping their prisoner. The man, dark hair falling around his pale face made paler by the dark green he insisted on wearing, looked at the child as the two of them entered the room. “Well, well,” he said staring intently at the girl—who looked up at him without a trace of fear or anxiety of any kind.

“Arachne,” Coulson said, “this is Loki. He is currently being—” He paused. Peter had filled Coulson in on her strong aversion to the word “punished.” “He is being disciplined for bad behavior.”

“Terrible behavior really,” drawled Loki as he continued staring at the child.

“I thought you might like to show him your sketchbook,” Coulson said.

“Agent Coulson,” Commander Fury’s voice came over the intercom. “Come to the bridge _now_.”

“Oh my. I do _hope_ you’re not getting into trouble on my account,” Loki said lightly. Coulson merely chuckled and left the room with Arachne in it.

Arachne tilted her head at the man and narrowed her eyes in thought. “Do you _want_ to see my sketchbook?” she asked. “I’ve noticed that most adults seem bored when I talk about it.”

Loki’s lips parted in a smile. “What a perfectly charming child you are,” he purred.


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see how Parent's day is going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you might notice that one child is missing from this chapter. She'll be in the next one. I was going to put them all together, but that would have made this way too long. Sorry.

“Son,” Tony said somberly as the two of them surveyed the damage, “there comes a time in a man’s life where he had to keep a promise with another man. Can you do that?”

Howard coughed and looked around at the ruined lab. “A promise?” he asked warily.

“We never tell Pepper this happened.”

A loose fluorescent light, connected to the ceiling by a single wire, gave up the fight to stay in the air and shattered upon impact with the ground. “Agreed,” Howard said firmly. One of the giant robot arms turned to spray the now broken light with fire extinguishing foam.

Tony sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Bits of ceiling insulation and other debris fell to the ground. “Well,” he said wearily, “let’s get this cleaned up.” He went over to a side panel, opened it, and pulled out two brooms and dustpans.

Howard took one of them. “What about those little robots you have that like cleaning?”

“They’ll tell on me to Pepper,” Tony told the boy as they started sweeping debris up.

“Oh.” They worked in silence for a few minutes. “Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Pepper’s pregnant.”

Tony blinked, but he wasn’t particularly surprised, especially since he and Pepper had been sharing a room more often than not. “Well,” he said calmly, “that means I’ll lose the office in the penthouse—but Pepper probably right about it not being a good idea to have one anyway.”

“Why will you lose the office?”

“Because trust me; you don’t want to share a room with an infant who will scream at all hours of the night just so it can get cleaned and fed,” Tony replied. He carried his latest dustpan over to the giant garbage can in the corner. “Besides, your room is soundproofed. _One_ of us will need to get some good sleep.”

Tony worked in silence for another minute before he realized that Howard had completely stopped working. “Is something wrong?” he asked. Images of having to rush the boy to the hospital because he’d come into contact with something he shouldn't have raced through his brain. “Howard?”

“I thought,” Howard said with unusual timidness, “that I only got the room I have—because Peter moved out.”

“Well,” admitted Tony, “yes. If he was still living with us, I would have lost my home office when you moved in and with the baby we’d have to move somewhere else. Might still have to move somewhere else,” he mused, “depending on how large of a family Pepper wants. She has six siblings,” he explained.

“Wasn’t I—brought here to—replace Peter?” asked Howard.

“What?” Tony whirled to stare at the child. “No!” He looked around for a place to sit and cleared one of the tables of the debris on it as he gestured for Howard to come over. “Now listen,” he said firmly, “I don’t know much about that place you came from, but _here_ people are not replaceable. Yes, your room used to be Peter’s. He had moved out before we knew you existed.” Tony scowled at the lab, not really seeing it. “He’s almost twenty-one,” he told the boy. “He was going to move out anyway. I’m not going to lie,” he added, “I expected him to move in with a nice girl—or boy, and start a relatively happy life that was as stress free as possible when two people live together. Instead, he’s living with that insane mercenary.”

“You don’t approve of Deadpool?” asked Howard.

“No,” said Tony flatly. “I don’t approve of Deadpool. And,” he added, “I can’t _dis_ approve of Deadpool too much or I might lose Peter altogether.” Not quite familiar with the action he reached out and hugged Howard. “And one day,” he said, “in the far, distant future, you’ll move out too. Please promise that you won’t move in with someone insane who hears voices in their heads and has a past history of killing people first and asking questions later.”

“I think I can do that.”

“Awesome. Let’s get this place cleaned up before Pepper sees it.”

 

^^^

 

Natasha and Sasha winced at a particularly loud cheer from the crowd around them. They had traded their tickets (second row—no idea how Deadpool got them) with a couple of teens who wanted to be closer to the idol and were now in the back. Natasha gently rubbed her temple trying to stave off the headache that was blooming.

Suddenly the lights, which had gone down for the performance, came up. Armed men rappelled from the ceiling to grab the singer and the dancers on stage. There was a brief muffled squawk as one of them grabbed the singer—and for a single moment blessed silence reigned over the concert hall.

Then one of the men grabbed the microphone and snarled into it, “We are part of the Real Human Alliance!” He glared at the random snickers that couldn't quite be suppressed at the name. “We are making our demands known—for as long as those abominations known as ‘mutants’ are allowed to exist we will kill one of you as hostage—starting in three hours.”

Sasha moved closer to Natasha. She supposed it only made sense for the girl to be frightened. After all, the child had never been in a situation like this before.

“We’re not seriously going to let them get away with this, are we?” she demanded softly.

Natasha smiled. “No,” she said firmly as she looked at the men on the stage aware of more of them blocking the doors. “We are not. How good are you at playing helpless?”

Sasha shot her a quick grin. “As good,” she said firmly, “as I have to be.”

 

^^^

 

“No!” screamed the little child.

The sound— _too many sounds—_ cut through Bruce’s head and he turned to see the toddler with the red face most frequently accompanied by a tantrum. He winced. A small child’s tantrum was not going to make this mess any more bearable. What had he been thinking? As soon as he had seen how crowded this place was he should have grabbed the boy and gone somewhere else—an art museum, planetarium, _something_.

Bruce turned to grab Brian—who wasn’t there. He scanned the crowd with a growing sense of panic. The boy had been _right there_! Where was he? “Brian?” he called warily. “Brian!”

Suddenly there was a familiar sounding roar and a table flew past Bruce’s head and he turned to see a smaller version of the Hulk inside the petting zoo. Breaking the fence of the petting zoo. Attacking the handlers coming to round the animals up.

“Brian!”


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki takes Arachne on a field trip to the land of the dwarves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, a little bit of lore is needed to understand this chapter. I'll go more in depth later. According to the original mythos Loki has a daughter named Hel, who is half alive and half dead. Always sick in the land of the living, she is given an area of the land of the dead to rule over--the most gruesome and cheerless part of the realm of the dead might I add. Also, sticking to the original mythology here, there are nine realms of the world. Swartalfheim is the realm of the dwarves and Helheim is the section of the land of the dead that Hel rules over. In one myth a child is about to be sacrificed to appease her and Loki intervenes to save the child's life, gaining him banishment from the land that his daughter rules over. Yeah, I know, Marvel did very little with the original myths, but that's one of my favorite Norse myths and I had to give it a shout out.

“So, Agent Coulson asked if I wanted to go on a field trip and the field trip I took with Wade was fun. Wade says that a field trip is having fun for learning purposes,” Arachne told the man in green. Loki—she remembered his name now.

“And now Agent Coulson is getting yelled at by his superiors,” murmured Loki with a smile.

“Why?” asked Arachne. She hadn’t moved from her spot.

One of Loki’s eyebrows rose. “You heard that?” he asked.

“I hear a lot,” she explained.

“How clever. Tell me child, what do you know of locks?”

“I know that the most basic locks have tumblers that are designed to be pushed aside when a key is inserted and turned and that it’s possible, with tools, to manipulate a lock into thinking a key is turning it.” Elektra had said it was less about _picking_ locks and more about _tricking_ locks.

Loki blinked. “Really?” he asked with genuine curiosity. “And, what do you think of this lock over here?” He pointed to the keypad keeping his cell secure.

“Oh, _that’s_ not a lock,” came the surprising reply. “Those are _easy_.”

Loki felt a grin stretch across his face. Agent Coulson had left him—alone—in the same room as a child who didn’t think that digital keypads counted as locks because they were _easy_ to open. “Why don’t you show me how?” he asked.

Her response startled him. She took a step back, and looked—afraid? “The last time I opened a door I wasn’t supposed to Wade got hurt,” she said.

From the context of the child’s ramblings, Wade was one of her parental figures. “I do not believe,” he said slowly, “that the agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. would hurt your—Wade.”

“That’s what Peter said—but Wade still got hurt.”

Time to try another tactic. “You said that you had opened a door you weren’t supposed to,” he said. “Did anyone tell you not to open this one?” He was willing to bet not, especially since he was sure the people in charge believed she was incapable of opening it.

She frowned as she considered it. “Well, no,” she admitted. “But why would it be locked if I’m allowed to open it?”

“You said that Wade told you a field trip was fun,” Loki said, smoothly changing the subject. “Are you having fun, Arachne?”

She frowned even deeper. “Not really,” she confessed. “Everyone is nice and all—but we’re not really _doing_ anything.”

Loki smiled. “Very true. How do you feel about a field trip within a field trip?” he asked. “I can take you somewhere there are things to do.”

Somber amber eyes met his. “I have to be home before dinner,” she told him. “Peter’s making chimichangas tonight, and he said he’ll teach me how to use the fryer.”

Loki chuckled. “Not to worry,” he told the child. “I can easily have you home before dinner.”

He could see the internal debate—and said nothing. A wrong word one way or the other could sway her decision to leave him in the box. “And you’re sure they won’t hurt Wade for this?” she asked.

Loki bowed. “Cross my heart,” he told the child.

“Okay!” She walked over to the keypad, smacked it, and the pneumatic door hissed open. He stepped out of the chamber with a smile.

The door to the room opened and a panicked Agent Coulson looked in. “Loki!” he yelled.

Loki smiled. It would seem he’d be able to cause a little—mischief—here as well. He held out a hand to the child who trustingly took it. “Let’s go have some fun, shall we?” he asked. Power swirled around them and transported them to another place. “Welcome to Svartalfheim,” he said. “Home of the dwarves.”

One of the dwarves in question looked up and grunted at Loki. “I don’t care how many times you ask,” he said, “we’re not making you another scepter.”

“Oh,” Loki said gallantly, “I didn’t come for me. Meet young Arachne, master of locks.”

Arachne’s wide eyes looked up at Loki. “Elektra is much better than I am,” she said humbly.

“And what is this?” A female dwarf stalked over and tugged on one of the fairy wings.

“They’re fairy wings. Peter got them for me.”

The female dwarf waved that as unimportant. “Fairy wings. What do they do?”

The child looked confused. “I don’t think they’re supposed to do anything,” she said. “They’re just sort of—there.”

“And that is _not_ fit armor for a warrior,” the dwarf continued.

“It’s not?”

“No. Let’s just go fix this.” She hastily escorted the child away who cast a nervous glance back at Loki.

“Don’t worry,” Loki told her, “you’ll be home in time for dinner.” She followed without protest.

“Well,” said the dwarf looking after the two of them. “I suppose—I suppose I owe you for inspiring my wife. She’s been pining for a while.”

“Yes.” Loki smiled. “Of course, it’s completely understandable with all that happened.”

“True.” The dwarf sighed and then shot Loki a sly glance. “Funny, isn’t it? How similar the two of them look?”

“It’s not just their looks,” Loki said. “The personalities are almost identical from when she was that age.”

“You can go visit, you know.”

Loki stared at the distance where the female dwarf was measuring Arachne. “I have been banished from Helheim, old friend,” he told the dwarf sadly.

“She’ll get over it.”

“Perhaps.” Loki shook himself. “I realize that you have no intention of making me another scepter, but would you object to making something for the child?”

The dwarf eyed him narrowly. “And what might that be?” he asked.

Loki smiled again. “Well, she seems to enjoy drawing…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And she gets an upgrade! :)


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepper takes them all to task about failing their parent days, and Agent Coulson receives a shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. I was originally going to post more (since I'm off), but I caught some kind of bug and it hurts to look at a screen too long. Hope everyone enjoys!

Pepper stared at the assembled group in front of her. Bruce and Brian looked ashamed (as they should),  Natasha and Sasha both looked unruffled (and they should be even more ashamed of  _ their _ behavior), and Tony and Howard were covered in soot and debris. She pinned the two of them with a glare. “What happened?” she demanded of them.

“Secret,” Howard said firmly.

“A secret.” She rubbed her temples to stave off an impending headache. “All right. It’s a secret. Does this secret threaten national, or international security?”

“What? No,” said Tony, shocked.

“Is this secret going to be on the six o’clock news?”

“I don’t see how,” said Howard thoughtfully.

“Then the two of you may leave with my blessing. Go—go watch a movie or something.”

“Why?” asked Howard.

Tony firmly gripped his shoulder. “Because a man always accepts it when a woman says he’s not in trouble. Let’s have popcorn.”

“Oh!” said Deadpool as he looked over at Peter. Just like earlier the two were standing behind Pepper. “Do you think Arachne’s ever had popcorn?”

“We can have a movie night this weekend,” said Peter calmly.

Pepper turned her gaze to the other man and boy pair in the room. “Now,” she said grimly, “you want to explain to me why there’s an upcoming headline about ‘Hulk and mini-Hulk trashing  Petting Zoo Fair’?”

Bruce shifted. “Well, they weren’t treating the animals very well.”

Brian glared. “They were caged! In a rough wooden pen!”

“They were  _ penned _ .” She glared at them. “It was a  _ petting zoo _ .” Her gaze shifted to Bruce. “And?” she demanded. “What’s  _ your _ excuse?”

Bruce shifted nervously again. “Well, I—I think I got a little overstimulated,” he admitted.

“You threw a taxi into the library.”

He winced. “All right—a  _ lot _ overstimulated. But that was it!”

“You dug holes in the side of a building climbing it.”  He winced again. Pepper moved on to the woman and girl pair. “As for you,” she said darkly.

Sasha heaved a sigh. “ It was fine.”

“Three people died!”

“Yeah, but they were enemies, so…” The child shrugged.

Pepper turned towards Natasha, who sighed. “If they’d been captured alive they would have been tried, released on a technicality, and would return to  create more havoc and endanger more lives on another day. I think we won.”

The door opened and Coulson hurried in. “Pepper, I’m sorry I’m late.”

Deadpool was the first to notice. “Where’s Arachne?” he asked.

Coulson flushed. “Well—she helped Loki escape and he took off with her.”

“WHAT?” There was no way to tell what throat the word was ripped out of. Maybe all of them.

Almost all of them. Sasha looked up at him calmly. “Is she dead now?” she asked casually.

“What? No! I don’t think,” said Coulson nervously.

“Pity. Come on Brian, let’s go watch TV.” She held out a hand towards her brother and the two of them walked out of the room.

“That is one frightening child,” Coulson muttered. 

“ Arachne,” snapped out Pepper as she glared at him. “Loki. How the Hell did the two of those end up together?”

Coulson winced. “That is my fault. Loki seems inordinately fond of children, so I thought introducing him to one might help him regain his lost humanity.”

“I don’t understand,” Peter said. “How did she get around you to unlock the door?”

Coulson shifted nervously, in much the same manner that Bruce had earlier. “Well, I—I was called away and left her alone,” he admitted, red-faced.

“You  _ what _ ?” shrieked both Peter and Pepper at the same time.

“You left that—that  _ child _ alone with dangerous psychopath known for manipulating people?” demanded Peter.

“Yeah,” egged on Deadpool as he leaned against the back wall, clearly enjoying the situation.

“I told you,” roared Pepper, “that she’s good at  _ escaping _ !”

Suddenly wind blew from out of nowhere depositing a black and green figure. “Well, well,” said Loki as he looked around in amusement. “It would seem we have quite the assembly here.”

Before anyone could react Arachne beamed. “Hi Wade! You’re not hurt!”

“Of course he isn’t hurt,” Loki told her as he led her towards Deadpool. “I told you he wouldn't be. And look,” he added, “you’re still home before dinner. I’m sure your—parents will be more than pleased to hear all about your lovely field trip.”

“Thank you Loki!” said Arachne happily as she walked over to Deadpool.

“Anytime dear child. And now,” his gaze swept the room and he smirked, “I must be going. Things to destroy, chaos to create—the usual.” Before he left he met Peter’s eyes. “By the way, you may wish to have a talk with her about strangers—or perhaps not.” He shrugged. 

Black and green rose to cover Loki once again as the wind roared through the room before he completely vanished. 

As the adults stared Arachne hummed. “I like him. He’s nice. Are you still going to teach me how to make chimichangas Peter?”

Coulson fled the room and Deadpool followed. “Coulson, Buddy!” called Deadpool as he reached the man and slapped him on the back. 

“I’m sorry Deadpool,” said Coulson.

“Aw, I didn’t call you out to yell at you. If anything, I’m humored.”

Coulson, veteran of S.H.I.E.L.D., stared at the insane mercenary for a moment. “Humored?” he demanded.

“Yeah. See, I kind of made the same mistake.” Ignoring the way the blood drained from Coulson’s face Deadpool slapped him on the back again. “She’s happy, she’s unhurt, no harm done. Toodles!” he called as he headed back to the office.

One of the interns recognized him. “Sir? Agent Coulson? Are you all right?”

“I,” Coulson ground out through numb lips.

“Sir?”

“I—made the same mistake as Deadpool…”


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the plot progresses...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I managed to churn out one more chapter for you before bed. Fair warning, it's short and I'm on two different types of OTC painkillers, so if you see any major errors, let me know so I can fix them. And now back to the show!

Natasha, Bruce, and Tony watched the man with Deadpool suspiciously. “And why are you here?” demanded Natasha.

The man, one Agent Bob from H.Y.D.R.A., sighed and rubbed his face. “I’m here because I’m expendable,” he said wearily. “And I’m kind of hoping Deadpool won’t let the lot of you kill me before I finish.”

“But after is all good, right?” asked Deadpool.

“We’re not killing anyone,” Peter said firmly. He’d met Bob before. Bob was not impressed with Peter—he looked like a strong wind could knock him over.

Still—Deadpool put Peter’s opinion  _ first _ over everything, so Bob was glad of the assurance that this mission wasn’t going to get him killed.  His wife would never forgive him if he was. Using slow, deliberate, and nonthreatening movements, Bob pulled out a manila folder and slid it across the table towards Stark, who took it. He looked at the contents and then glanced at Bob, eyebrow raised. “How accurate is this?” he asked, all business.

Bob could deal with business. “There are always variables, but our sources say that it’s at least ninety-eight percent accurate.”

Natasha leaned over Tony’s shoulder to scan the files. “I see,” she said. She brought her eyes to pin him to his seat, and he shifted nervously. “ And why is H.Y.D.R.A. giving us this information.”

Bob grimaced. “Officially? They’re not. Like I said; I’m expendable.”

Bruce leaned forward. “Unofficially?” he asked quietly.

“Unofficially—this could kill our entire species. H.Y.D.R.A. doesn’t  police weapons makers—since we usually employ the most sadistic and insane ones,” he admitted, “but S.H.I.E.L.D. does. And,” he added, “the Avengers do.” He shrugged. “Officially we know nothing, saw nothing and don’t care about what we didn’t see—but  _ that _ is—well, even we have standards.”

They looked like they weren’t sure if they believed him until Deadpool spoke up. “Bob has always had a tough moral compass and doesn’t agree with everything they do, but a man’s gotta eat,” he said. “Shut up, I know that!” he added to the voices in his head.

Tony, Natasha, and Bruce turned to stare at him. Peter didn’t even flinch. That was the most impressive thing Bob had seen in a long time. 

Natasha spoke up. “So this madman, who is  _ not _ employed by H.Y.D.R.A. and is  _ not _ protected by them, has made a super weapon that H.Y.D.R.A. is simply—handing us.”

Bob shuddered as he remembered the look on his superior’s face. “Strictly off the record,” he said warily, “whatever that man made terrified my boss.”

“You’re right, we can’t,” Deadpool suddenly said. He looked around. “So?”  he asked. “If we go traipsing all around the world to hunt down evil bad guy scientist, who’s looking after the kids? ‘Cause, you know, we can’t just leave them to their own devices or they might get into life-threatening trouble again and we can’t ask any of the agents to babysit, because—well, that didn’t work out so well last time.”

Peter nodded. “That’s true,” he said somberly. “Arachne does have a—knack for getting into dangerous situations.”

“And none of them are my baby girl’s fault,” said Deadpool firmly.

Bob stared, horrified at the thought that Deadpool, the insane mercenary and killing machine, had a  _ child _ . 

“True,” admitted Peter. “It’s usually the fault of the adults she’s with.”

“Yeah, so like I said—something,” said Deadpool. “I know! I’ll talk to Pepper!” He skipped out of the room.

“Deadpool!” growled Natasha as she followed him, “Pepper picked the  _ last _ sitter and it didn’t go well!”

“Oh, God,” groaned Bob in horror.

“No one died,” Tony said soothingly as he neatened the papers before putting them back in the manila folder. “And I feel certain that anything mechanical has been fixed by this point.”

Bob shuddered. “I hope,” he said fervently, “that she takes after her mother. Or grandmother, if her mother is as crazy as he is.”

Tony began to snicker and Peter glared at him before turning his attention back to Bob. “Let me show you out before someone tries to kill you,” he said calmly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Bob. Also--I read a fic called "Deadpool Hijacks a fanfic" by TheLadySyko. Here's the address, https://archiveofourown.org/works/3501530
> 
> And be warned: You may laugh so hard you hurt something. :)


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arachne, Sasha, and Brian are left with their babysitters while the adults go to save the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little short of a chapter--but I thought it was good. Hope you enjoy!

Peter glanced in the rear view mirror at the child in her car seat as they drove. Pepper’s idea, in spite of Natasha’s initial concerns, was sound. Most of the rescued children were already with Xavier, and he said it was alright to look after their three while the heroes were away for however long it would take for them to solve the dangerous weapon problem. 

Arachne was clutching her stuffed unicorn and sucking her thumb as she looked around with wide, frightened eyes. “This isn’t permanent,” he told her. She met his view in the mirror and he could see she was nervous. “We  _ are _ coming back,” he assured her.

“Good question,” Wade said turning to look at the child. “Arachne, are you worried because the other children from the facility will be there?” She nodded.

Peter opened his mouth to tell her that it was fine—and then remembered how Sasha had said it was a pity that Arachne probably wasn’t going to die after Loki absconded with her. “Well,” he said, “do you remember how we said it doesn’t matter if you’re the only one who knows you saved them?” She nodded, keeping her thumb in her mouth. “W ell, if they try to force a confrontation, you remove yourself from the situation.”

Arachne’s thumb came out of her mouth. “Remove myself?” she asked, puzzled.

“That means you leave. Walk away, make a nest, climb a wall, kill the other kids,” rattled off Wade.

“Not that last one,” Peter said firmly. He looked back at Arachne, whose thumb was back in her mouth. “Just leave. You could even build a web near the ceiling.”

They pulled into the drive of the mansion turned school. “This is a big place,” Peter said, “and there’s kids your age here—kids who  _ weren’t _ in the facility. You might even make a friend.”

“I made a friend,” she said sulkily.

“Yeah?” asked Wade. “Who?”

“Loki.”

“I mean,” Peter clarified, “friends your own age.”

“And less likely to harbor dreams of plunging the whole universe into chaos,” added Wade. Peter shot him a glare as Arachne tucked her thumb in her mouth again.

They pulled around the front as several of the school’s teachers were there to greet them. Peter noticed that it was one teacher for each child as the van with Sasha and Brian (Howard was staying home with Pepper) pulled up behind them. Peter got out and released Arachne from the car seat before going to get the duffel bags with her overnight stuff.

“Now remember,” Wade told the child, “if anyone tells you to do something you don’t like, tell them ‘no’.” Peter smiled at the instruction as he made sure the bags had all the necessities. He knew they did, of course, having packed it, but he wanted to give Wade a little more time to talk to Arachne. “If they still want you to do it, web those suckers to the wall! And if they  _ still _ try to get you to do it, take that insane spider strength I know you have and punch them in the fork!”

“Deadpool!” scolded the teacher (a massive man who appeared to be made of metal. “What you teaching child?”

“Indeed,” said Peter as he strolled up with the duffel bag. He looked at Arachne, eyes still wide and sucking her thumb for dear life and added, “Half strength. Full strength would kill them.” She nodded, but didn’t pull her thumb out of her mouth.

Deadpool swept the girl into a  hug. “Don’t worry my little Princess!” he said. “We’ll be back as soon as possible.”

Peter talked to the teacher. “So, she builds webs, in case you couldn't tell from the conversation earlier. She’s pretty good about taking them down though,” he added.

“Not to worry,” the teacher told him. “We have all kinds of special children here.”

Peter nodded. “She also eats a lot,” he told the teacher. “Her metabolism is insanely fast, and she needs liquids every four hours or so. She likes juice. I packed some boxes.”

“It will be all right.”

“Of course it will!” cheered Wade as he danced with Arachne over to the two of them. “We’ll save world, come back, and have pancakes!”

Peter laughed. “Of course,” he said. He kissed Arachne’s cheek. “We’ll be back before you know it,” he told the child.

They waved their goodbyes and got back in the van. “Wade?” said Peter as they drove away.

“Yeah?”

“If you get hurt we’re not coming back until you’re fully healed.”


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arachne makes a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, posts may become rarer over the next few days. Half the crew at work is sick with whatever this bug going around is, and I'm still fighting with the tax people. Still, I hope you enjoy what I can post!

Arachne had tried to get along with the other children, she really had. But the ones that had been in the Bad Place with her had made the ones that hadn’t hate her and taunt her with bad names—so she did what Peter said to do. She climbed the wall, made a nest of webbing near the ceiling, and then crawled into her web. They couldn't reach it, and the webbing muffled the sounds of their taunts—so she pulled out her sketchbook (and the battery powered storm lantern that Peter had given her) and continued the sketch of that nice dwarf lady she’d met. The one that showed her how wings are supposed to work.

Eventually the others got bored of trying to taunt her down from her nest. They went away to play something else, and she didn’t mind. Capturing the memories she had on paper was more important than anything they were doing anyway.

Then she heard the taunting begin again. She looked up to see that there was a new person being taunted—a boy with scales on his skin. Not all of the skin, just parts of it—which she could only see because one of the others had pulled the boy’s shirt off and was taunting him with it.

Well, that wouldn't do. Clearly the boy didn’t have the same ability to remove himself that she did. And the others were being  _ very  _ mean. She shot a strand of webbing at him and (carefully, slowly so she wouldn't accidentally hurt him) pulled him into the nest. While he sat there, blinking in surprise, she shot another strand to his shirt and reeled it in as well.

“You can’t do that!” shouted one of the boys. “That’s abusing your power!”

“We’re gonna tell!” screamed another.

Arachne merely handed the boy his shirt and then went back to sketching. “Th—thanks,” the boy said shyly.

“Not a problem,” Arachne said. “I don’t like it when they’re mean.”

“I don’t either.” The two of them exchanged a grin. “I’m Keith,” he said.

“My name’s Arachne,” she told him. “I think it’s Greek.”

“That’s a nice name. Are you a new a student?” Keith pulled his shirt over his head and wiggled down next to her in the nest.

“No, I’m just here until Peter and Wade get back. They have important business that I can’t go help with,” Arachne explained. She wasn’t sure what the business actually was, but she believed the two of them when they told her it was too dangerous for her to go. They never lied to her.

“Oh. I’m a student,” the boy said. They were silent for a moment. “Peter and Wade? Are they your parents?” he asked.

“I think so,” she said. “I mean, they said they adopted me, but I’m not really sure what that means.”

Keith nodded sagely. “I know what that means. That’s where they sign lots and lots of papers to tell the whole world that you’re part of their family now.  One of the kids in my neighborhood was adopted, before I came here.”

“Oh,” said Arachne. She couldn't explain it, but the thought that both Peter and Wade told the whole world that she was their kid made her warm—happy. It made her happy.

“He had two moms,” Keith said. “And you know, he called one of them Mother and the other Mom. Why do you call Peter and Wade by their names?”

“That’s how they introduced themselves,” Arachne explained.

“ Well, why don’t you try calling them Dad? They might like it.”

“Hmm.” Arachne thought about it. “Maybe…I’ll ask them later.”

“Kay. What are you drawing?”

“Wings!” Arachne launched into the lecture about different types of wings; feathered wings, skin wings, scaled wings, and mechanical wings. She was explaining how feathers help make a wing more aerodynamic when she was interrupted.

Kitty, one of the older students, poked her head through the bottom of the nest. She wasn’t breaking the nest, because she could go through solid objects. “Hey, this sounds interesting,” she said. “ Can I join?”

“That depends,” said Arachne warily, “are you going to say mean things or call either of us bad names?”

“What? Of course not!”

“Then sure.” Arachne and Keith scooted over so that Kitty would have room in the nest. Arachne was proud of the way her nest didn’t even sag with the extra weight. She built good webs.

Kitty carefully moved the lantern back towards Arachne and looked at the drawing of a feathered wing in the sketchbook. Arachne was trying to recreate the way the wind had moved across the feathers, but hadn’t gotten it right yet. “Wow, that’s good,” Kitty said. “Are you going to be a pilot when you grow up?”

Arachne frowned. She’d spent most of her life knowing that she probably  _ wouldn't _ grow up—so it was strange to hear someone  _ assume _ she would. “I don’t—know.” She looked at the book again. “I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.”

“Well, what do your parents do?” asked Kitty.

“Peter works in a lab. They make stuff and samples die all the time,” said Arachne recounting what she understood of the conversation. She’d understand more if Peter would just  _ explain _ what he was talking about—but he didn’t and she didn’t want to ask in case she wasn’t supposed to know. She liked living with Peter and Wade and didn’t want them to send her away. She frowned suddenly. “I’m not sure what Wade does,” she said. “I think he protects people? He says I’m too young to know.”

“Oh, okay. Well, it’s lunch time. Would the two of you like to come eat?”

Arachne looked at Keith, who flushed and pushed his glasses up his nose. “Is it okay if I join you in your web again?” he asked nervously. “I like talking to you.”

She smiled at him. “Of course!” Kitty slid through the bottom of the web and Arachne helped Keith climb out before she took it down.

“You’re taking it down?” asked Keith as she rolled it into a ball.

“I’ll build another one,” she said dismissively. She bounced the ball against the floor and it smacked up into her other hand. “Besides,” she said as they followed Kitty to the cafeteria, “they make great balls!”


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hero group invade a building to discover what the terrifying super weapon is and how to stop it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. First of all--I'm not great at action scenes. (What? You're not surprised? Well, you've been reading this.) I tried something new for this chapter after talking to someone I know who can write *really* good action scenes, so please let me know if it works. Also lots of gore. This chapter is longer than previous chapters, and I was originally going to divide the action between what's going on with Arachne and the people around her and what's going on here, and then I thought that might be confusing. So, instead of a lot of really short chapters, you're getting a couple really long ones.
> 
> Also, mind those tags. There is action oriented violence in this and a bit of gore, hopefully some fun things and did I mention there's some gore in this chapter?
> 
> Still reading? Please enjoy.

“It _would_ be Oscorp,” muttered Spiderman from his vantage point.

Wade frowned under his mask. “I thought that serum you and Rich Boy invented fixed whatever was making him unstable.”

“Only if he kept taking it.” Spiderman ran a hand over his mask.

[You know—we’re not in New York. If we come across Osborn here we could kill him.]

{After all that hard work Peter put into saving the man? He’d be devastated!}

 _Yeah, Spidey wouldn't like it if I killed his best friend’s father_ , Wade thought to them. And to tell the truth, Wade kind of liked Harry. Sure the kid had a chip on his shoulder, but he seemed to be a good friend for Peter.

[And there was that whole incident where he didn’t even flinch when you stabbed the wall next to his head.]

{Well, _he_ told us to get out of town and leave Peter alone!}

“Not helping,” muttered Wade.

A breeze lazily blew over the two of them. From the way the men were dressed, they were cold, but the two costumed men were fine. Wade’s leather effectively blocked all the breezes, and Peter’s suit had an automatic tendency to acclimate towards the cold. If not for the huge complex in front of them and all the trees around them, it could have been just another night on a rooftop.

The communicator in Wade’s suit (and presumably Spiderman’s) crackled to life. “There’s a second building behind the main facility. It looks like a loading dock of some kind, and something’s being moved,” Iron Man told them from his position—wherever that was. His new suit camouflage was great.

“There’s something going on inside as well,” Natasha told them. Somehow she had gotten in. None of them were asking how she did it. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but there’s a lot of champagne toasting, laughing, and a giant metal box that has a ridiculously huge red bow on it.”

“Sounds like they finished what they were doing,” murmured Bruce from—wherever he was at. The only one who didn’t stay hidden from Wade on mission was Peter. And Natasha, but Natasha had made sure to point out that while she couldn’t permanently kill him, she could, easily, make sure that he couldn't get back up for a while if he got to be a danger on the mission.

[Like we’d ever put Spidey in danger!]

{On purpose.}

“More importantly,” Wade said ignoring the boxes, “none of the guards are professionals. Legit mercs and merc companies wouldn't go near this job.”

“Probably heard how little Norman pays his employees,” muttered Tony.

Oscorp and Stark Industries had a strange rivalry going. While people muttered about how callous Oscorp treated its employees, Stark Industries had been voted as the best workplace in the country three years in a row. And except for a few pointed barbs, neither man commented on the rivalry.

“Think Norman knows what these idiots are up to?” asked Natasha. “I don’t see any sign of him being in here.”

A thin sliver of tension left the spider’s shoulders. Maybe Norman was taking the medicine regularly. Or maybe not. It was too soon to say.

[Too bad he’s not here. We should still kill him for wanting us to kill Spiderman.]

{He gave up on that idea though!}

“Guys,” Natasha said, “if we’re going to move, we need to do it now.”

“All right! Into the fray!” said Tony. There was an explosion.

{Why aren’t _we_ allowed to blow anything up!}

[We blew up that wall back in Chapter 11!]

{And what chapter are we in _now_?}

Both Wade and Spiderman got up and ran into the building. Spiderman knocking people out and Wade—not killing them. They might die if they don’t get medical attention soon, but he’s not killing them.

[I’m not sure Spidey will appreciate the difference if they die…]

{Die, shmie! I want something _cool_ to happen! Like explosions we get to make!}

Ignoring the pin pad box by the door Deadpool sliced the knob off and it swung open as the two costumed men swarmed inside, Spiderman spinning web after web as Deadpool _didn’t_ kill people.

In the center of the room was a giant box. It was ten feet tall, made of metal, and appeared to have vents in it. On the top, as Natasha reported was a giant red bow that covered the entire top of the cage. The edges of the ribbon even had lace on it.

{Open the box!}

[It might be a trap!]

Open the box Wade. The control panel is too your left.

Wade turned to see, attached to the giant dolly the box was on, a control panel with a single red button on it. _Seriously? Just the one button?_

Don’t argue with my artistic sense Wade. Just push the button. And you might want to take about three steps back when you do.

“NO!” screamed one of the scientists, easily labeled by his lab coat, as Deadpool approached the box. He turned looking for the other members of Deadpool’s team. “DON’T LET HIM OPEN IT!”

Wade pushed the button and jumped back the required three steps as the panel of the box in front of him slid down. He looked up into the eyes—of a velociraptor.

Please Wade. _Real_ raptors have feathers. This is a scientifically engineered creature straight from my nightmares because I was _way_ too young to watch Jurassic Park when it first came out.

_How old—?_

None of your business. Now, see the black box on the creature’s chest? Smash it.

Barely noticing that the fight was screeching to a standstill around him, Wade shrugged. “You’re the boss,” he said to the author before stepping forwards to punch the box.

As it broke a few of the pieces pierced his hands releasing the necessary few drops of blood to activate the mechanism. Almost instantly, as his hand healed of the damage, he could feel the raptor in the back of his mind, snorting with hunger, with desire, with the need to _hunt_. He slowly turned and looked at the scientists and amateur mercenaries. A smile broke across his face as several of the ones staring at him lost what little color they still had.

Have fun Wade.

“Yee-haw!” wailed Wade as the creature roared, showing off all her perfectly shaped, conical teeth. Wade pulled both katanas from their sheaths and dove back into the fray as the creature waved her clawed hands in mimicry and dove on one of the gunmen swiftly eviscerating him with talons on her feet. The creature, catching Wade’s excitement and blood lust, didn’t even stop to feed. It moved on to attack the next the gunman.

The man was unlucky enough to fire several bullets that hurt the creature—but she had Wade’s blood. Enough of Wade’s blood that her wounds healed almost as quickly as the bullets pierced straight through her scaled flesh. She roared with hurt and rage at the man who had injured her and leaped on him, pinning his shoulders with her taloned hands as her foot came up and her controllable claw crept up us torso and dug in, near his shoulder, until it hit his rib cage and she pulled him apart to leave him gasping as he slowly, painfully died.

“Damn you’re dark today,” Wade said as he stabbed more people with his swords.

Shut up, it’s been a long week.

As Wade spun and kicked another opponent, he got a glimpse in the back of his mind of a distinctive red and blue suit. “No!” yelled Wade instinctively reaching through the bond. “You can’t kill Spidey!” The creature looked around and, through her eyes, he saw that Spiderman was surrounded by gunmen and clutching a bleeding shoulder. “Protect Spiderman!” he ordered.

The creature roared her assent to the order, slipped her narrow head under Spiderman’s body, and lifted until he slid down her neck to rest on her back before she leaped into action once more. Bullets flew at her and she twisted to protect the spider clinging with confusion to her back—and lasers flew out of her eyes to melt several of the guns.

“She has _laser eyes_!”

Yes. And none of this “Oh no, must keep the glasses/goggles on at all times” junk. _She_ has perfect control over her laser eyes. And that’s not _all_ she can do.

A small line of men, on a catwalk above the action, aimed their weapons at the creature. Wade saw it, showed her through the bond what was happening, and she roared before a flickering blue light surrounded her—just in time to bounce the bullets back into the men who shot them leaving both the creature and the man on her back unharmed. The creature parted its lips in satisfaction—and hunger.

“She can use a force field!”

Yes Wade. Oh, and she’s going to need fed soon. She eats hamburgers.

“Hamburgers?”

Not the whole thing—just the meat. They don’t even have to be cooked—there’s not a parasite in the world that can kill her.

Wade leaped up with a cheer and knocked over a cardboard box that fell over and opened to reveal Stetson cowboy hats. Without thinking he snagged two of them as the creature ran over to him and he leaped up on the back of it behind Spiderman. Then, before the costumed hero could blink, he placed hats on each of their heads.

“Okay people!” they heard Iron Man say over the communicator. “This place is done for; let’s get out of here!”

“Onward, honorable Bea Arthur!” said Wade firmly and the creature roared again before dashing out of the building—managing to jump on several of the downed “soldiers” on the way out.

As they left the building Spiderman began to shake and Wade slid an arm around him. “Are you okay?” he asked worriedly. As soon as they were a safe distance away Bea slid to a stop on the snow and Wade jumped off to help Spiderman down—only to see that the costumed hero was _laughing_. “What is it?” asked Wade.

He laughed harder before he could explain. “We just—rode a—dinosaur—that shoots—lasers!”

“Spidey? Peter?” asked Wade worriedly.

He’s fine Wade. The shoulder wound is shallow and he’s just reacting to the stress.

[Is he panicking?]

{Let’s kiss him and make it better!}

“Best idea I’ve heard all day,” muttered Wade. He ripped off his mask, ripped off Spiderman’s mask, and planted a firm kiss on the younger man’s mouth, stopping the hysterical laughter.

They slowly broke apart and Peter smiled. “Great idea Yellow,” he murmured.

“Feeling better?” asked Wade.

Peter pulled him closer. “Not yet,” he said.

“Oh, well, we better try again then.” Wade bent down for another kiss as the building exploded behind them. Wade broke away, looked at the fiery explosion, and grinned at his husband. “Epic,” he said. Peter simply pulled him in for another kiss.

“I hate to break this up,” they heard through the communicator, “but we’re getting a distress signal from Xavier’s mansion. Given that we all have children there, we might want to see what’s going on.”

The two men sighed, stopped kissing, and just held each other for a moment. “All right,” said Peter as he picked up his mask from the ground. “Let’s go make sure Arachne is okay.”

“Can we stop at a BK on the way?” asked Wade. “Bea Arthur really needs to eat and I don’t want her to decide that we’re food.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit that the raptor was almost completely taken from the fic *Deadpool Hijacks a Fanfic." Link here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3501530
> 
> It's by TheLadySyko, it is awesome, and I highly recommend you read it.
> 
> The laser eyes and force field are all me. So are the hamburgers. :)


	46. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, back at the school...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is taking place at the same time as the other chapter. Please keep that in mind. (Although this one starts earlier and ends later, but roughly the same time block.) Also--this is a long chapter. You may need to pace yourself. I think it's the longest I've written yet--but there was so much to say.
> 
> And once again--there is violence, inferred child abuse and experimentation, and mind those tags!
> 
> All in all, please enjoy.

Arachne dutifully brushed her teeth at one of the sinks. In this, she was better than most of the others—mostly because it was important to both Peter and Wade that she brush her teeth at least twice a day. She wasn’t sure why—she didn’t think it was even _possible_ for her to get cavities—but she always brushed in the morning and again before bed. Sometimes, depending on circumstances, she even brushed after lunch.

“Hey,” one of the girls behind her said. She calmly rinsed her mouth. “Make us a jump rope,” the girl ordered.

Arachne rinsed her mouth out three times (Wade said three was a magic number), wiped her face and turned to look at the other girl. “No,” she said calmly.

The other girl was taken aback. “What do you mean ‘no’?” she demanded. “You spin webs all the time! It can’t be that hard to make a jump rope!”

“When you want something,” Arachne said, “you have to say please. You didn’t.”

“I don’t _need_ to say please,” snarled the girl.

“You do if you want a favor from me,” Arachne said firmly.

“Hey, hey!” called Kitty as she came into the bathroom. “What’s going on here?” she asked looking between them.

The other girl pointed at Arachne. “ _She_ won’t make us a jump rope!”

“ _You_ won’t say ‘please’,” Arachne said back.

“First of all,” Kitty said looking between the two children, “it’s bed time. You shouldn't be pulling toys out. Second of all, we _have_ jump ropes. What’s wrong with the ones we have?”

The girl rolled her eyes. “They’re all put up, _duh_ ,” she said.

“Because it’s bed time,” Kitty said firmly. “If you’re done brushing your teeth, let’s all get into bed. Arachne, Colossus wants to see you in the courtyard for a moment, if you’re almost ready for bed.”

Arachne nodded and walked off to the courtyard. She saw the large metal man staring up a tree at a pretty webbed nest. It sparkled in the fading light. “Kitty said you wanted to see me?” asked Arachne as she looked at the thing. She took in all its details trying to figure out how it sparkled like that. Maybe she could make sparkly webs too. That would be nice.

“Ah, Arachne,” said Colossus. “Could you pull down your web for me?”

“That’s not one of my web’s!” Arachne protested. “It’s too small!” It was—it wasn’t even big enough for just _her_ and she always made her webs big enough for at least two people.

“I see. Will you take it down anyway?” asked metal man. “It’s blocking one of our security cameras.”

“Okay.” Arachne climbed the tree and reached out to grab a strand of webbing. “Ouch!” she said at the sudden sharp pain in her hand. She pulled it back to see lines of red where the webbing she had touched drew blood.

“Arachne? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just surprised.” The lines on her hand became shallow and healed leaving her to scratch off the scabs to show the healed skin beneath them. “I’ve never dealt with sharp webbing before.” She climbed up to one of the anchor points of the web.

“Did she just say the web is sharp?” a voice asked.

Arachne ignored it. Colossus, one of Wade’s friends, had asked her to get this web down, and she was going to get it down. She reached out to the anchor point—and hissed as the web cut into her hand again. She couldn't touch it without getting hurt. Very well—she wouldn't.

A moment later her hand was healed again and she snapped the branch the web was attached to.

“Arachne, what are you doing?” called the new voice.

“I can’t touch the web, so I’m pruning the tree!” the girl called back as she scrambled up and around to the top most anchor point. She snapped that branch as well and the web cut through the wood as it sagged against its last anchor point.

“Be careful!”

Arachne looked down—to see that there was a teacher, a man with dark sunglasses, staring up at her. “Don’t stand under it!” she told him. “It’s dangerous!” She waited until he moved back before snapping the last anchor point. The web crashed down, slicing through everything as it went. She climbed down and glared at the web. “That is one nasty web,” she growled.

“Yes,” said the man. “And it sliced through the camera.”

“It what?” Arachne looked up to see that one of the things the webbing sliced through was, indeed, a camera. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” the man said as he put a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll just post an extra patrol tonight, and that should cover everything. Go inside and get ready for bed.”

Arachne nodded and went inside. Ignoring the other girls she made a nest on the ceiling and climbed into it. Then she got down and grabbed her stuffed unicorn.

“You’re not allowed to do that!” said one of the other girls. Arachne ignored her.

“Yeah, you have to sleep in a bed, just like us!” said another.

Arachne did something she’d never done before. She webbed the open part of her nest shut sealing her into a cocoon of webbing so that she wouldn't have to hear the others any more. She curled up around her unicorn and hoped that Wade and Peter would get back soon. She wanted to go home.

Shortly after she fell asleep a pair of hands reached through the webbing and pulled her out. Arachne’s arms automatically thrashed and Kitty said, “Sh, sh,” desperately. The little girl looked up at the older girl with wide eyes as she heard odd popping noises in the background. “Come on,” she whispered. “The mansion’s under attack and we need to get to the safe place.”

Arachne remembered the talk. The safe place was in the basement—a fortified room that _nothing_ could into. It even had its own air cycling unit. “What’s going on?” Arachne asked as she clung to Kitty.

“Going somewhere, little X-Man?” drawled a voice. Kitty whirled and Arachne saw a woman. She was tall and her long hair hung like a ribbon down her back. Kitty began to tremble with fear.

Kitty was a nice person. She didn’t yell, she always explained herself, and she never assumed that Arachne was wrong. So—the woman that Kitty was afraid of couldn’t be a nice person and Wade had told her to never let bad people have what they want.

Arachne twisted and Kitty, surprised at the action, let the girl drop to the floor. She looked at the woman, who laughed. “Good girl,” purred the woman. “Now, come with me.”

“No.”

The woman’s face twisted with rage and looked like one of the mean people's faces when they were upset about something—and it made Arachne mad. They had no right to be here, no right at all! The woman took a step forwards. “You _will_ come with me.”

Arachne spun webbing at the woman, yanked it to the side so that it stuck to the wall, and then finished webbing the woman there. “No,” she repeated firmly. More people ran down the hall and she kept herself between them and Kitty. Of the two of them, _she_ was the durable one. The Bad Place had proved it.

Remembering what Wade told her, she danced around the attack the man launched at her, the bullets missing her by inches and punched him.

“ _Half strength. Full strength could kill them.”_

At the last moment she pulled back. The man gasped as his lower region turned to jelly only in shape because of his skin. As he collapsed Arachne ran back to Kitty, grabbed the older girl, and scaled the wall into the vent.

Kitty tapped her leg. “This way!” she hissed as she turned around. Arachne turned and followed her. As they were crawling Kitty almost ran into Sasha and Brian. “Turn around,” she hissed. “No, left.” Kitty led the three of them to a room. “It’s okay,” she told them as she dropped out of the vent. “This room doesn’t connect to anything but the air vents.”

“How did you even find it?” asked Brian as he and Sasha dropped out of the vent.

Kitty smiled grimly. “I’ve lived here since I was twelve. You wouldn’t _believe_ how many times this place has been rebuilt.”

“What are _you_ doing here?” demanded Sasha. Kitty whirled to see that she was confronting Arachne.

Who didn’t back down. “Same reason _you’re_ here,” she said. “We needed to get away.” She stopped and blinked. “No,” she said suddenly. “We _don’t_ need to get away. We need to save them!”

Sasha rolled her eyes. “We can’t _save_ them,” she said.

“We have to try!”

“Why _should_ we?”

“Because _we_ know what will happen if we _don’t_.”

Watching the two children glare at each other Kitty realized there was a lot about these children she didn’t know. She had no idea what they were talking about. Something about this conversation was more adult than children this age should be able to have.

“What about the adults?” All three girls looked at the boy. “Kitty says this place gets rebuilt a lot right? That must mean the adults are used to it getting attacked. I bet if we get the adults free, _they_ can save everyone else.”

Sasha seemed to think that over. “Well,” she admitted slowly, “yeah. That could work. Totally. Okay, first we need to know the layout of the mansion.”

“There are fire escape plans on every floor with the blueprints,” Arachne said. She spun a web at the ceiling and hauled herself up. “I’ll go get one.”

“See if you can figure out what they’re doing with everybody!” Sasha called back at her. “Planning a rescue isn’t going to do any good if we don’t know where they are!” Sasha sighed and muttered, “Might as well use those escaping skills of yours for something _good_ for a change.”

“I heard that!” Arachne mentally growled to herself, reminding herself how Wade and Peter had pointed out that if she hadn’t made it to the elevator and to the first floor _none_ of the others would have been rescued. It helped—a little. The fact that they still hated her hurt. She knew _why_ , of course, but still.

She crawled out. She had a perfect memory for buildings, and she knew how to use it. Every time they’d caught her she’d learned more and she’d gotten further. The fact that she’d saved everyone was proof enough of that. She glared out of the vent at one of the invaders. She was going to save everyone again.

She exited the vent—silently—in one of the classrooms. Every classroom had detailed blueprints for emergency evacuations. Several more of the intruders walked by the room and she cracked the door to hear what they were saying.

“—get them all to the cafeteria,” muttered one of them. “How are we supposed to do that when these brats have powers?”

“Do you _want_ to piss the witch off? She’ll kill you with that doll of hers.”

Trailing behind them was a line of cowed, collared children. Something about the collars made Arachne shiver—the “danger is coming” shiver. At the end of the line, walking slowly behind the others, was Keith. Without thinking she reached out of the room, yanked him in, and put a finger to her lips. He blinked at her and she realized he wasn’t wearing his glasses. He probably couldn't see very well; no wonder he’d been so slow!

She put one of his hands on her shoulder and then walked towards where she left her thin, strong web to climb back into the vent again. Thinking about it, she grabbed a pen as she passed the teacher’s desk. It would come in handy later.

She used a dab of webbing to stick Keith’s hands together before she climbed up the webbing and pulled it up behind her. If none of them had seen them get into the vents, she didn’t want to let them know how the group was getting around.

She crawled with Keith, unnaturally silent, on her back. Soon she made it to the little room where it was safe and let him down. Kitty stared at the collar with horror. “Oh, no,” she muttered. “Inhibitor collars.”

Sasha frowned as Arachne examined the collar. “What are those?” Sasha asked.

Arachne found the lock. She opened the collar and it dropped off. Keith went full body red, white, and then back to normal. “Are you okay?” she asked him.

“Arachne!” He lunged and hugged her as he cried. She hugged him and let him. After all, it had made Pepper feel better.

“How did you get that collar off?” asked Kitty.

Sasha sighed. “ _Because_ it’s Arachne,” she said as if that explained everything. To the children who had been in the Bad Place, it did. “What do these collars _do_?”

“They—inhibit. Block all powers.”

Sasha and Brian stared at her for a moment. “So—if the adults have these collars on them they’re useless.”

“We can get them off,” Arachne said. “It’s not hard.”

Sasha rolled her eyes again. “For _you_!”

“So we try anyway. Even if we fail, we _tried_ . That’s _important_ ,” Arachne said.

“Would Natasha and Bruce want us to try?” asked Brian. They turned to look at him and he shifted nervously. “Or would they want us to stay safe?”

“Peter and Wade understand what it means to _try_ ,” said Arachne.

“Wade talks to the voices in his head.”

“ _Peter_ talks to the voices in Wade’s head.” The two girls glared at each other for a moment.

Sasha sighed. “Okay—but we need a plan. Tell me everything you heard.” Arachne complied.

Kitty paled at the description of the “witch.” “I’ve—I’ve heard of her,” the older girl said softly. “She has this doll and if she places something of yours on it—she can use it to hurt you.”

Sasha sat down and rubbed her chin as she thought in unconscious mimicry of how Bruce tended to think. “All right. Arachne, you got the map.” Keith sniffled and let go as Arachne dug out both the map and the pen and handed it to her. “Okay. We need a three pronged plan. First, we need to get the adults free so they can rescue us. In case they can’t, we need to contact adults that aren’t here that will.”

“Tony, Natasha, Bruce, Peter, and Wade,” supplied Arachne.

“Right.”

Kitty pointed to one of the rooms. “This is a control room. It can be locked from the inside and used to send a mayday sequence to the Avengers Tower which will be bounced to wherever they are now,” the older girl said.

“May—day?” asked Arachne. “What’s that?”

“General, all purpose call for help,” Kitty explained.

“Okay. Third thing we need to do is keep them here. We can’t save everyone if they move people off the grounds. Brian, you’re going to go to the parking lot. Go green and smash everything. They can’t leave if there’s nothing to leave _in_. Arachne, you’re going to keep this ‘witch’ busy. I’ll go the control room.”

“Problem,” said Arachne. “I can’t be a distraction _and_ unlock collars. She might not be able to kill me, but she’ll be able to immobilize me as soon as she figures out how to do it.”

Sasha chewed on the pen. “I hadn’t thought of that,” she admitted. She turned to Kitty. “Do you think you can learn how to open it?”

“Ah—”

“We don’t know until we try,” said Arachne. She picked the collar off the floor and snapped it closed again, locking it. “Let me show you how and you practice,” she said. Moving slowly she showed Kitty how she overrode the electronic lock.

“I want to help too,” said Keith in a small voice.

Sasha glared at him and he went pale. “What can you do?” she asked.

“I can—turn colors. It’s not a lot, but it might help someone stay hidden.”

“It’s not exactly perfect camouflage,” said Sasha.

“It doesn’t have to be,” Arachne said as she guided Kitty’s hands on the collar. It snapped open. “Try that a few more times,” she said before standing up and looking at Sasha. “I’m going to be a distraction, remember?”

“Do you honestly think you can distract them enough?” asked Sasha.

“I live with Wade!”

“She has a point,” said Brian. “Wade is—distracting.”

“Wade is _insane_. Everybody says so.”

“Not Peter.” The two girls glared at each other again.

“Got it!” said Kitty as the collar fell open a third time.

“Let’s go,” said Sasha as Arachne’s spun a rope to the ceiling to let them all out.

Kitty and Keith followed Arachne down to the cafeteria. She paused and turned to look at the other two who looked at her with wide, frightened eyes. She realized that Keith—her first friend her age and Kitty—a girl who was almost big enough to be a grown up, were looking to _her_ for instructions. It made her feel both like she was strongest, best person in the world and absolutely _terrified_. She swallowed before she spoke and hoped that it was too dark for them to see how scared she was. “Wait until they’re distracted,” she ordered.

“How will we know?” asked Keith.

Thinking back to all the chaos that Wade could cause she smiled. “You’ll know,” she told him confidently. Then she kicked out the ventilation grill and swung down into the cafeteria. The tables were all pushed up against the sides and the people there were divided into two groups—the children and adults with collars and the men with guns. Sitting on a lone stool was a woman. She was tall and her white dress had a vaguely feathered look to it.

The woman’s eyes narrowed in speculation as they regarded the child. “Come into the web yourself?” she asked with a thick accent.

“No,” said Arachne as she confidently (Wade told her once she could get away with almost anything if she pretended to have enough confidence) towards the woman. She pointed. “You’ll let them all go!” she announced.

Her announcement was met with a roar of laughter—and among the laughter she heard the unmistakable sound of two feet hitting the ground. Now she just had to keep the attention on her. It shouldn't be too hard—she just had to act like Wade. Well, minus the talking to herself. That might make people look away nervously and she didn’t want anyone to look away.

“I know of you,” said the woman as she picked up something. “You are the little spider girl.”

If no one had told Arachne that it was supposed to be a doll, she never would have known. It looked like several sticks tied together in a shape that was vaguely human. Honestly, Arachne could easily have made a better doll out of webbing. Still, she had that sense again. That sense that something really really bad was about to happen.

The woman held up what looked like a white thread—but Arachne knew better. It was a piece of _her_ webbing. Normally she took down her nests and balled them up until it was impossible for a single piece to be picked away—but Kitty had pulled her out of her nest early, and she hadn’t had time.

The woman tied the thread around the twigs in her hand. She held it up so that Arachne could see the white glimmering thread around the doll. Then, carefully and deliberately, she took what might have been an arm on the thing—and snapped it.

Arachne’s own arm snapped at the same time. She felt pain, she felt rage—but she also felt vicious satisfaction. Was _this_ the best the woman could do? She flung her injured arm out.

_Crick-crick-crack._

Her arm was healed. She flexed it to the gasps of the people around them. “You’ll have to do better than that,” she taunted, pointing to the now solid twig of an arm on the doll. She braced herself, knowing what was going to come next. The woman was going to use the doll to snap her neck.

The woman didn’t disappoint. The woman twisted the top of the doll and Arachne’s head followed—but this wasn’t the first time that someone broke her neck. And this time— _this_ time she could control how fast she could heal. Her head spun like a top as her bones and nerves fixed themselves, the muscles twisting, bruising, and healing until it was normal again. Arachne coughed up the blood that had been forced into her airway when her neck twisted and spat it onto the floor before wiping her mouth with her sleeve. “Is that all you’ve got?” she asked.

The woman smiled and regarded the perfectly fine doll in her hand before looking at the child again. “No,” she said smugly. She tossed the doll into the air and Arachne followed—and—didn’t—come—down! The woman got off her stool and strode towards the child who spun desperately in the air trying to get purchase on _something_. “What are you child?” the woman asked. “You are more than spider, are you not?” The woman reached the girl and seized Arachne’s chin with one hand. “Fascinating,” she murmured.

Arachne knew that word. That word was always (almost always—not since she left the Bad Place had it been) followed by pain as new limits were tested to see just how far she could go. She tried to pull away from the woman—who suddenly went slack, only held up by three metal claws piercing through her chest.

The woman fell off the claws and Arachne dropped to the floor fighting for breath. A hand rubbed her back soothingly. “Okay, you’re okay,” murmured Kitty.

Arachne looked up, eyes wide, at the man who’d killed the woman. He had hair that was kind of flat and at an angle on his head, bigger sideburns than she’d ever seen, and a scowl. She’d seen him around the school—but she didn’t know what he taught. “You did good kid,” he said. “Real good.”

She looked around and saw that the adults were free and most of the gunmen were down. “It was Sasha’s plan,” she told him as Kitty rubbed her back.

The man frowned. “It wouldn't have worked without you,” he said.

She shrugged. It didn’t matter. Arachne herself hadn’t had a plan—Sasha was the one that came up with one. If Sasha hadn’t figured out what to do, Arachne wouldn't have distracted everyone long enough for Kitty to get the collars off.

Suddenly she broke down crying. “What’s wrong?” asked Kitty.

“I—I want to—to—go home!” Arachne wailed.

Suddenly one of the doors to the cafeteria burst open and a boy Kitty’s age popped in. “The Avengers are here!” he said, eyes wide. “And they have a dinosaur!”

“They have a what?” asked gruff man.


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wolverine meets Bea Arthur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So--another chapter. Enjoy.

Wolverine stared at the scene in front of him. Part of him was shocked and part of him just accepted that was what happened when Deadpool was somewhere. It was just a fact: strange shit happened around Deadpool that had no real explanation.

This time the strange shit was a man-eating scaled creature roughly nine feet tall that was willingly giving children piggy-back rides around the yard as Deadpool and Peter (not sure why Peter wasn’t still in his Spiderman suit) comforted Arachne. As for Kitty, well, she was still in shock that the “Wade” the little girl spoke of so highly was the same person as “Deadpool”, the insane mercenary.

Wolverine was in shock as well— _Deadpool_ was acting like a _parent_ . He was holding the sobbing, hiccuping child close as both he and Peter rubbed her back. The scene itself seemed normal enough—two parents comforting their frightened child. It was just creepy as hell that one of the parents concerned was _Deadpool_.

“So, what happened?” asked Iron Man, also known as Tony Stark.

“Mansion got attacked,” Wolverine reported. “Bastards had inhibitor collars.” He frowned. “They were prepared for me.” He considered. “Or maybe for her. I think her healing factor could give Deadpool a run for his money.”

“How do you know that?” asked Iron Man. Wolverine described how the girl had challenged the witch to provide a distraction so that Kitty could get collars off the adults and they could take back the manor.

“I tell you this,” Wolverine said, “I talked to Kitty and no way was that child—or any of them—raised outside of a lab.”

Inside his suit Tony frowned. “Xavier didn’t talk you?”

“Charles told me to listen to my gut as far as the new children are concerned.” He looked around to make sure the children were still involved with the dinosaur before adding, “Was it Weapon X?”

Tony sighed. “We found nothing to compare them. I know you won’t believe it, but even their method of getting samples was different. I don’t think they’re connected.”

“Or—they’re smarter than you think.” Wolverine growled. “I don’t like these intruders stinking up the manor.”

One of the children squealed as the dinosaur stuck its head under the child and let it slide all the way down its back and off its tail. For something that was so clearly designed to kill it was good with the children. Actually—it kind of reminded him of Deadpool in that way.

“Yeah, um, please don’t tell Deadpool about what happened,” Iron Man said. “We don’t need him killing the witnesses before we can interrogate them—and since this isn’t in New York City, Peter won’t interfere.”

Wolverine nodded; the two men had a strange dynamic. Deadpool didn’t kill inside the city—and Spiderman said nothing about what happened outside it. It also seemed to work—certainly no one else had anything close to a leash on Deadpool. From time to time he wondered just _how_ it had happened—but he knew better than to ask.

“Wolvie! Buddy!” said the insane man in question as he danced over and gave Wolverine a slap on the shoulder.

“Deadpool,” said Wolverine wearily. He looked over and saw that Peter was holding the now sleeping child.

“Hey, you should know, right? What room is Arachne’s stuff in? Pete and I decided it would probably be best if she wakes up in her own room.”

For a moment, the man almost sounded normal.

“There’s a what?” The madman turned to see one of the children, a little boy with thick, round glasses. “Hello?” asked Deadpool.

The boy held out a bundle. “I couldn't get up to get her unicorn,” he said, “but here’s the rest of her stuff.”

Deadpool took a step towards the boy and Wolverine got ready. The mercenary was unstable and unpredictable. If he did _anything_ to hurt the child Wolverine would kill him. “Thanks buddy!” said Deadpool. The dinosaur roared, shook off its burden of children and trotted over. “This,” said Deadpool, “is Bea Arthur. If you’ll show her where the unicorn is, she can get it.”

The reptilian skin stretched as the dinosaur delicately sniffed the child. It made an odd sound, sort of like a combination of hissing and clicks. “You’re amazing!” the boy said staring up at her as he pushed his glasses on his nose. The creature ducked its head under him and slid him down its neck until he rested on its back. Then, uttering a sharp, ringing bark, trotted off into the mansion.

Deadpool grinned through his mask. “I’m just going to put these on the jet,” he said happily.

“That creature is some kind of super weapon that Deadpool bonded to,” Iron Man said. “I’m not sure how that happened, but it takes orders from him.”

And it was playing with _children_. “Iron Man,” growled Wolverine.

“Don’t worry,” Peter said as he walked over to the two of them. “It’s fine. Deadpool has complete control of the beast—and besides, she’s eaten.”

Inside his suit Tony winced. “Almost forty pounds of hamburger meat.”

“Yeah.” Peter was silent for a moment as he rubbed Arachne’s back underneath the fairy wings. “But, at least those workers were happy at being able to leave early.”

“I’m sure the forty burgers that you and Deadpool polished off helped.”

“Um, guys?” Deadpool was suddenly next to them and shifting. “I think Bea Arthur needs help. She seems to be stuck in Arachne’s nest.”


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arachne meets Bea Arthur and they all have breakfast together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taxes suck rotten eggs. I could have typed *way* more here. :(

Wade flipped another pancake and contemplated the mound in front of him. Even though the author said that Bea Arthur ate hamburgers, the creature had stolen two plates of pancakes from the stove—and was now sleeping on her back in front of the flat screened TV. “We’re going to need to increase our food budget,” muttered Wade.

[We could always take a couple jobs, for old times sake.]

{Yeah, I’m sure Weasel would point out a few for us!}

[No. No, we could find something else.]

{Aw, come on! It’s been years!}

[I don’t want to be in debt to that little rat!]

“Pancakes,” muttered Wade as he flipped another pan and added to the stack of golden fluffiness. Bea Arthur snorted and a leg twitched in her sleep.

“That is one strange sight,” Peter said as he came into the kitchen. He kissed Wade on the cheek. “Good morning Wade, White, Yellow.”

{Good morning Peter!}

[Peter, these idiots are thinking of taking another job from Weasel! Talk them out of it!]

He can’t actually hear you.

“Morning,” Wade said returning the kiss. “How’s Arachne?” She’d been asleep when they’d gotten home—and glued to Peter’s clothes. It was probably a good thing Peter wore long-sleeves like he did; Wade didn’t even want to think about what would happen if Arachne did that to real skin.

“Still sleeping,” Peter said amused. He’d had to rescue Bea Arthur from the little girl’s nest because once she fell asleep she wasn’t waking up. He didn’t know if it was because she was used to taking down her nests when she was done with them, but it had been easy to pull it down. Slightly harder to get off Bea Arthur who kept struggling.

“Hmm,” said Wade thoughtfully as he poured more of his handmade batter into the hot pan. “Tin Can said he’d tell us what happened at the manor today,” he commented.

Peter grabbed a full plate of pancakes and ferried it to the table. “That he did,” he said as he deposited the plate on the table.

“Why didn’t he tell us last night? On the jet, while the kids were asleep?” demanded Wade.

[Now that you mention it—it _is_ suspicious.]

{Pfft. He was probably just scared of Bea Arthur.}

The creature in question snorted and kicked again. Peter looked at it. “I wonder if we can buy hamburgers in bulk,” he said thoughtfully as he looked at the creature.

“Probably,” said Wade. “Almost everything else can be.”

{She’s up!}

Wade turned to see Arachne, blinking sleep from her eyes, holding Peter’s jacket with one hand, hair all messed up, and small tears in her pajamas, which she’d been wearing when everything went down at the manor last night. The ever present fairy wings were bent and dirty. Her thumb was in her mouth again.

[Is she still nervous? She’s home now.]

“Good morning,” Wade said brightly as she walked into the kitchen. She blinked those wide amber eyes and then gently butt him in the leg with her head before toddling off to Peter.

[I don’t think that’s good.]

Arachne held up Peter’s jacket to him and he took it before placing a swift kiss on the top of her head. “Thank you,” he told her. She rubbed the top of her head absently, still sucking her thumb, and toddled off again. Wade and Peter exchanged a worried look. It was almost as if they had the same Arachne they’d had when they first got her, and not the one who had opened up to them.

Wade moved the frying pan off the burner and turned the stove off before following Peter and Arachne to the living room. She was standing in front of the love seat, watching Bea Arthur sleep. “Arachne,” Peter said, “Are you okay?” She nodded, not taking her eyes off the creature. “Do you want to talk about it?” She shook her head, sucking her thumb harder.

[That’s not working Peter.]

“I know. Arachne, this is Bea Arthur,” said Wade introducing the child to the creature. “She’s—she’s your new sister.” Both the girl’s head and Peter’s head whipped around at this. Arachne’s eyes were wide—but there was a spark of interest in them. “She came from a lab, like you, and we’re taking care of her. So she’s your sister.” Wade beamed at the two of them.

Arachne shuffled forward and gently touched the creature’s side. Bea Arthur’s head turned, her eyes opened, and she reached forward with her snout to nuzzle Arachne’s neck—before opening her mouth and gently biting—just hard enough to break the skin. Before Arachne was fully healed once more the creature licked a few drops of blood and then allowed her head to fall back.

“What the hell?” asked Peter.

_Good question. What was that?_

“I can feel her in my mind,” said Arachne. She rubbed Bea Arthur’s stomach and the creature’s tail lashed back and forth with pleasure. Wade could feel the thing’s happiness at the rub.

_Seriously?_

It’ll be important later.

“Stupid plot points,” he muttered. “Time for breakfast,” he told the child.

Both child and dinosaur—

Wade, it’s a _creature_. It’s not a real dinosaur.

—scrambled to their feet. Wade looked at Bea Arthur, remembered the pancakes she ate for breakfast, and wondered what she’d eat now.

Wade, you have almost five pounds of bacon in the fridge.

_That’s for us!_

So give her three of them and fry up the rest. Remember, her food doesn’t have to be cooked.

He felt an odd surge of happy emotion between the beast and the girl as they all went to the table. Peter served three places of pancakes while Wade quickly made up a fourth with the raw bacon. “Now,” he told the girl, “you can’t eat Bea Arthur’s food.” He pretended not to see as Arachne slipped a pancake onto the creature’s plate.

“Okay,” she said calmly. The four of them sat down and began eating.

After a couple of bites Wade found himself staring at Bea Arthur. She was using her long, black tongue to separate the slices of bacon where it would then encircle said slice of bacon, and quickly whisk it into her mouth.

Peter gently nudged him. “You need to eat too,” he scolded his husband with a wink.

Wade grinned and they went back to eating. The four of them ate in silence. Well, relative silence; Bea Arthur was oddly noisy as she ate.

The phone rang and Peter went to pick it up.

[Don’t let him answer it!]

{That phone never rings for anything good.}

Back off, this is going to be awesome.

“Thor’s _what_?’ asked Peter. “Well, we’re eating breakfast right now, but we’ll be right over.” He sighed. “Yes, Tony, the dinosaur too.”

“You know,” Wade pointed out as he put more pancakes on Arachne’s plate, “Bea Arthur’s not really a dinosaur.”

“I know,” Peter said as he sat at his chair, “but it’s easier to say than ‘experimental super weapon that scared H.Y.D.R.A. and bonded with my husband’.” He calmly began eating.

“So, what’s Thor want?”

“To meet Arachne apparently. Pepper was laughing too hard in the background for me tell what was going on.”


	49. Chapter 49

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arachne meets Thor and sees Loki again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I managed to get off another chapter before bed. I hope you enjoy, feel free to comment.

Loki grinned and rocked on his feet as Pepper let loose another howl of laughter. His hands were manacled in front of him. Thor, to his left, shifted awkwardly. “Will they—will they be coming soon?” Thor asked.

Pepper gasped a squeal and buried her face in a couch cushion as more laughter racked her slim frame. Tony and Thor looked at her as Loki merely grinned. Tony sighed and sat down. “Mind telling me what this is about, Thor?” he said.

Thor looked away nervously. “This is—this is about a promise,” he said slowly, “and more than that I can’t say.”

“I must say,” Loki said looking around, “that I couldn't have created so much chaos myself.”

Tony held up a bottle of ginger ale and glared at it. “If you think this is bad,” he said with a gesture, “wait until you see the dinosaur.”

“See the what?”

Pepper gasped again and Tony shook his head. Howard came over to Tony, keeping a wide distance from both Thor and Loki that Tony thoroughly approved of. “Who are these—people?” asked the boy keeping an eye on them.

“This is Thor, one of the Avengers, and his brother Loki—a pain in the—rear,” said Tony. “I assume, from the shackles, that Loki got himself in trouble again.”

Loki’s grin widened. “Quite. It was a nice little bit of chaos.” Thor grimaced.

Tony toasted them with the bottle. “I’m glad I wasn’t there,” he said firmly. He took a sip and then grimaced.

“And who might you be?” asked Thor, desperately, of the child.

“This is Howard. He’s my son.”

Suddenly Howard had all of Loki’s attention—and it made Tony nervous. “I see. And would you be from the same—place, as precious little Arachne?” he asked. Howard took a step back. “Oh, don’t worry,” the trickster added with a smirk, “I’m a friend of hers.”

Clearly, from the look on Howard’s face, this was not a recommendation. Tony opened his mouth to say something when Friday interrupted. “Mr. Stark, Peter, Arachne, Mrs. Wilson-Parker, and a creature are in the building.”

Tony winced at what his creation was calling Deadpool. “Please see them up quickly Friday.”

“I do not believe the creature will fit in the elevator, Mr. Stark.”

Pepper wiped tears from her eyes as she commented, “Just lead them to the service elevator Friday. It should be more than big enough.”

“Why he couldn't have just left it at home,” muttered Tony. He pointed at Loki. “And if you even _think_ about doing anything to either Peter or Arachne—”

Loki chuckled. “Oh,” he said with that same grin, “I think that with Wade in their lives they have as much chaos as they will ever need.”

“Chaos?” asked Howard—sounding disturbingly interested.

“Oh, would that be why you did that?”

“A little love dust never hurt anyone,” said Loki dismissively.

“They’re priests Loki! Of a celibate order!” Thor protested.

Loki grins smugly. “They _were_ a celibate order. You really should work on your tenses, Dear Brother.”

Before anyone said anything else the door opened and Deadpool sailed in—followed by a more sedate Peter and Arachne—riding the back of the vicious monstrosity that Deadpool had bonded to in the warehouse. “I thought the dinosaur was a joke,” Thor said. Said dinosaur hissed at the god as Arachne slid off its back. Her eyes went to Thor, traveled to Loki, and then stuck on the manacles that Loki was wearing. The eyes went wide and she stuck her thumb in her mouth as the dinosaur hissed at Thor again.

“Don’t worry Arachne,” Loki said with a smile and a slight rock. “It’s quite all right.”

“Loki! Buddy!” Deadpool leaped over the couch and put a hand on the god. “You know, Arachne calls you friend,” he said.

Loki smiled. “I am aware. Arachne, do you remember our little field trip to Svartalfheim?” he asked.

“With the dwarves,” Arachne said softly.

“That’s right. Well, you inspired them so much Arachne, that they decided to make you a few things. Dear Brother, would you give me a hand?” He waved his manacled wrists slightly.

Thor sighed and put his hammer, Mjolnir, down on the floor before reaching into a black messenger bag that he was wearing. The first thing he pulled out was a pair of wings. “These will grow as you grow,” Thor said as he handed the wings to the child. She reached out with one hand as the other went to her mouth.

“Oh, don’t be like that. My brother may look scary, but he’s a good man.” Loki rocked on his feet again with a grin. He waggled his bound wrists again. “Really, Brother?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “Not even to deliver.”

Thor growled. “Not after the stunt you pulled.” He thrust his hand into the bag again. “Armor,” he said pulling out a pink one piece item. “Again, it will grow when you do.”

“Oh, man,” said Deadpool. “You sure could have used that the other night!”

Arachne looked at it thoughtfully. “I don’t think it would have helped,” she told him.

“She speaks!” said Loki, looking inordinately pleased.

“Shut up,” growled Thor reaching into the bag a third time. “Here. Magic paper and pens. I don’t know what they do,” he said handing the last two sets of items to the child.

Arachne carefully set the items down on the table in front of the couch and looked up at Thor with wide, amber eyes. “Thank you,” she said solemnly.

Like most people who met Arachne’s eyes, Thor softened, slightly. “You are most welcome, young spider.”

Arachne nodded and then threw herself at Loki, who caught her. “Thank you,” she said.

Peter sighed. “Arachne,” he said wearily, “close the shackles.”

The child jumped guiltily and Loki used his now free hands to hug her tight. “You don’t have to worry about me,” he told her. “My brother will make sure I’m well taken care of. My—discipline—won’t take very long at all,” he assured the child. “I’ll be back to causing chaos before you know it.”

“You will not,” growled Thor.

“He’s just embarrassed,” Loki teased. Thor, god of thunder, Avenger of Earth, looked at the floor and flushed bright crimson. “And it’s not like you’re getting anywhere with your chosen one. I want my children to meet their cousins, you know.”

“You have children?” asked Arachne, eyes wide.

“I do. I even have a daughter.”

“Can I meet her?”

Loki’s lips pursed for a moment and Tony could almost swear he saw a shadow pass over the trickster’s face. “Perhaps one day. For now though, my brother needs to take me for my—discipline before he expires of embarrassment.” He put her down and held his wrists together as Arachne fastened the manacles again.

Thor put a hand on Loki’s shoulder and steered him towards the balcony. Arachne saw him leaving and grabbed Mjolnir. “Wait!” Arachne called as she picked up the hammer and walked over to them. “You almost forgot your hammer,” she said holding it out to Thor.

They stared, speechless, for a moment. Then Deadpool nodded. “You’re right, that _is_ awesome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because when the mental image popped into my head I couldn't stop laughing until I worked it into the story somehow.


	50. Chapter 50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn what happened to Thor, and Peter and Wade learn what happened to Arachne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah--so, long night at work. I'm glad I was able to start this chapter last night before work or I'd have nothing to post now. Also--a little bit on the dark side.

Peter kept an eye on the monitor, which showed Arachne in the training room with Bea Arthur. The girl was teaching the thing how to work with her webbing. The amazing thing was—it was learning. He watched as Bea Arthur launched herself towards the ceiling using one of Arachne’s web strings to increase her jump.

“So,” Peter said as he looked away from the monitor at Tony and Pepper (Howard was at Natasha and Bruce’s place with Sasha and Brian). “ What is it that required sending the children away?”

Pepper giggled, and then took a deep breath. “I  _ have _ to tell you what happened with Thor,” she said, eyes twinkling.

Tony saluted them with his bottle of ginger ale. He took a sip and grimaced. “I think it’s growing on me,” he muttered.

“Apparently,” Pepper said, not distracted in the least, “there’s this order of female priests. Female,  _ celibate _ priests who wear mostly bikini-like leather.”

“Which makes no sense at all,” Wade interjected. “I mean, that covers nothing and skin’s gotta be protected—besides,” he added looking around at the group, “ _ bikinis _ ? In a  _ celibate _ order?”

“I guess,” Pepper said, trying not to smile, “ Loki thought the same thing. He arrived with some glittering dust that he said was love dust, and before Thor could stop him he sprinkled it on all of the priests—who then targeted Thor.” She dissolved into laughter again.

“They were throwing said bikini-like items at him,” Tony said calmly, “and he got through the gate into the penthouse just as the bottom to one of those smacked him in the back of the head.” Pepper howled with laughter again as Tony took another grudging swallow of ginger ale. “Those things are beaded,” he added.

“It was stuck in his  _ hair! _ ” Pepper squealed as she grabbed the cushion again to smother her laughter.

“Thank God Howard was still asleep,” Tony muttered. “I don’t want to explain  _ that _ for another few years.”

“ Stuck from—”

“Don’t ask.”

Peter wasn’t about to be distracted. “That’s not what you called us here for.” 

“No.” Tony sighed and rested the cool bottle against his head. “One of the people captured from the invasion on the mansion started talking.”  He looked up at them. “They were from an old, outdated program that’s somehow still being funded.”

“Weapon-X,” stated Wade coldly.

Tony nodded grimly. “Somehow they got their hands on data from the children we rescued—and, luckily, the data was incomplete.” He turned to Peter. “You remember how surprised Bruce was that there was no research on her webs? There was—but that information had been sent somewhere else and wasn’t part of the lab we raided.”

“So the intruders knew about Arachne’s webs—”

“But  _ not _ her healing factor.” Tony nodded. “I imagine, given what I heard from Wolverine, that came as a distinct shock to them.”

“‘What you heard from Wolverine’?” asked Wade looking at Tony. “What did you hear from Wolverine? And why are we only hearing about it  _ now _ ?”

“Because X-Manor isn’t in New York City limits and I wanted people to interrogate,” said Tony. He clearly didn’t care.  Wade shifted to get up, to attack Tony.

Peter held out an arm. Wade settled back in his seat muttering to himself. “ What else did you get?” Peter asked, still keeping one eye on the monitor. Arachne seemed to be having fun. 

Tony sighed. “They were going to sell the kids to the program as soon as they were old enough. The information they sent over was nothing but teaser information—something designed to spark interest.”

“I know what teaser information is,” Peter told him absently as he mentally ran over the ramifications. “I helped Pepper with your last press release.” He frowned. “Weapon-X,” he muttered, “would have to know that this was a long-term project. The children are aging at a normal rate—”

“As far as we can tell,” Tony interjected.

“—and we’re not sure how old they are. The people responsible for this would have had to let Weapon-X know that this was going to have a long time before the results they wanted.”

“Especially,” said Pepper, fully somber now, “since they  kept ‘failing’ experiments.”

“Be glad you didn’t watch those experiments,” muttered Tony. “I don’t think I’ve slept since.”

“You said they didn’t know about Arachne’s healing factor,” Wade said. His voice was emotionless, almost dead. “How did Wolverine know about it?”

“ There was a woman known as The Witch there.”

Both Peter and Wade started. “That bitch!” growled Wade. “How is she still alive?”

“She isn’t,” said Tony. “Wolverine killed her.”

“Are you sure?” asked Peter.

“Well, her corpse was taken to the morgue and hasn’t left,” said Tony.

“I don’t understand,” Pepper said looking between the three of them. “Who’s The Witch?”

“She’s a—I’m not sure what she is,” said Wade. “She makes these dolls out of fragile, breakable things, and she ties something that belongs to you to it.” Wade went silent and Peter knew he was thinking of the last time they met the woman—when what she’d taken was a piece of the Spiderman suit in order to break his legs.

“After it’s tied,” Peter took over, “she can use it to hurt you.”

“Well, she was put guarding the prisoners,” Tony said. “Arachne taught Kitty how to open the collars—”

Wade snorted. “Of course she did. Baby Girl’s a genius like Peter.”

“And then made herself into a distraction. First thing the woman did was break Arachne’s arm.”

The arm of the couch that Peter was on snapped from the pressure. He took a deep breath and forced his hand to release what was left of the fabric covered wood before putting it in his lap. “And then?” he asked.

“ Her arm healed—and so did the twig of the doll that snapped. After trying to snap her neck—with the same result—the woman tossed the doll in the air and it hung—and so did Arachne. Kitty had gotten Wolverine free, and he killed the woman.”

“It’s true,” Wade said grimly, “that she must not have been prepared for the healing factor. I remember what she did with me.”

“What did she do?” asked Pepper, eyes wide.

“She dropped Wade’s doll in a glass of water,” Peter said grimly. “He kept reviving only to drown again until I tipped the glass over.

“God, I hope that woman is really dead this time,” growled Wade.


	51. Chapter 51

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Arachne have a heart-to-heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter--but needed. Hopefully more after work.

Peter had managed to send Wade off on patrol with Bea Arthur. He wasn’t entirely certain how he’d done it, but he wasn’t questioning it. He needed to talk to Arachne about what happened at the manor.

He also needed to explain _why_ Bea Arthur was allowed to go on patrol with Wade when Arachne wasn’t. Not that the little girl had asked. Peter frowned as he realized how _much_ Arachne didn’t ask. He wasn’t sure if it was because she’d figured out the answers on her own, or if she didn’t feel safe enough to ask.

“Arachne,” he said after the other two had left, “would you come here? I’d like to talk to you.” She slowly made her way to the love seat and sat next to him She was wearing her new pair of feathered wings. Occasionally they rustled on their own. It was clear by her body language that she thought she was in trouble. “Wade and I were talking to Tony today,” he said, “and he told us some of what happened at the manor.” She nodded, still silent. “He told us that you distracted the –The Witch.”

“I had to,” she said in a small voice.

“Arachne, I don’t think you understand how dangerous that was,” Peter told her. She looked up at him and he said, “Wade and I have fought against her before. She made a doll of Wade, who heals like you—and dropped it in a glass of water. He kept dying, Arachne.”

Her eyes widened and then she looked down at the carpet again. She was silent and he let her think. “But if I hadn’t—they wouldn’t have been saved.” She looked back up at Peter. “Kitty had gotten Sasha, Brian and me somewhere safe, but the others—they weren’t safe at all. And they would have—they would have—we had to save them!” She started to cry and he cuddled her close.

“I was the only one,” she told him through her tears. “She would have killed anyone else—but she couldn't kill me. Not forever, ever. And I taught Kitty how to take the collars off, so she _could_. But I was the only one who could be the distraction.”

“How did you do that?” asked Peter as he gently stroked her hair.

“I pretended I was Wade. Not like, talking to myself, like he does, because that makes people look away and I didn’t want anyone to look away. But the rest of it.”

Peter understood. It was the same feeling, that desperate need to help, that made him sew his first suit and go out to help people as Spiderman. Because he _could_ and someone needed to. “You did a good job,” he told her. “You distracted the bad guys and saved the others.”

“It was Sasha’s plan,” said Arachne, relaxing slightly.

“And sometimes we have to follow other people's plans to get things done,” Peter said. “I’ve followed Tony’s plans before,” he admitted. “The important thing to remember,” he added as he thought over a few missions where he hadn’t listened to the plan, “is that the person making the plan doesn’t always have all the information. Sometimes you have to break from it.”

She hummed slightly. “Sasha’s plan worked though.”

“It did indeed. I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he said hugging her tightly.

“No one else could do it,” she reminded him.

“And you did a good job.”


	52. Chapter 52

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade, on patrol, has a conversation with the author.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a long chapter and kind of rambling. Not much plot related happens, and if you want to skip I'll have a single sentence summary at the bottom for you.

Bea Arthur sniffed the air around her and hissed. She smelled something that could be enemy, could be danger, could be _food—_

“It’s an old homeless guy,” Deadpool told the creature he was riding. “And I don’t care what the author says—eating him could kill you.”

Wade, please.

“Or at least make you really sick. How often does she need to eat, anyway?”

She’s not really hungry Wade; just bored. Jump a few rooftops and do some acrobatics and she’ll be fine.

“Onward!” ordered Deadpool. Bea Arthur roared in acceptance and jumped onto a fire escape to climb to the top of the building. An elderly woman opened her curtains to see the monster outside them, and there was a small thud as she fainted. “Hey!” said Deadpool. “I’m pretty sure giving a senior citizen a heart attack counts as killing them!”

Calm down. She merely fainted—and her apartment is full of quilts she’s made. She’ll be fine.

“Oh yeah? And what about Aunt May?”

Aunt May has a rare adult version of brittle bone disease. She’s still healing from her broken foot, but other than that she’s fine.

“Are you sure you didn’t kill her off screen? You’re good at that.”

Wade, what is this about?

Deadpool held tight to the improvised saddle as Bea Arthur leaped between rooftops and picked up speed. “That kid. The one in the tank at the lab.”

I remember.

“He died.”

Some time ago, yes.

“Off screen.”

Well, I did write a chapter for it explaining what happened—

“And?” Deadpool’s voice is brittle and angry.

And it was depressing as Hell and didn’t match the overall tone of the story.

“You authors and your ‘tones’,” growled Deadpool. “He was a good kid! You could have saved him!”

He was being forced to live as his body decomposed around him watching the children he thought of as siblings being tortured as they were tested to destruction for an incomprehensible goal. Trust me; he’s in a much better place right now.

Bea Arthur growled and stalked forwards, her movable toe tapping on the roof in an odd clicking motion. Suddenly she lunged forwards and chomped down on a sleeping pigeon.

“I thought you said she wasn’t hungry!”

She’s not. You’re riding her like a sack of potatoes. She’s a little bored.

“We’ll see about that!” Deadpool clung to the saddle and she raced forwards. She leaped down from the roof, bouncing from clothesline to clothesline, as she made her way to the street before running, jumping over pedestrians. Soon she ran back into an ally and hopped up the fire escape until she made it back to a roof. “How’s that?” Bea Arthur’s mouth opened in a satisfied grin as she lightly panted from the exercise.

Much better. Aren’t you looking for something while you’re out here?

“Oh, like I’m really going to find anything jumping from rooftop to rooftop this time of night. No, I wanted to talk to you.”

I’m feeling suspicious Wade. What do you want to talk to me about?

“How’s Peter and Arachne?”

Fine. They had their little talk, and they’re not watching TV as they wait for you to get back from patrol.

“And why couldn't I be there?” demanded Deadpool. He didn’t like being written out of a heartwarming scene with Arachne—she was _his_ daughter too.

Of course she is. And you couldn't be there because 1) you would have focused on critiquing her one below the belt punch and 2) the incident has traumatized you enough.

“I am _not_ traumatized!”

You’re referring to yourself as Deadpool.

Deadpool—Wade was silent as Bea Arthur bent to sniff something on the graveled rooftop. “All right,” he said. “You’re right. I don’t like the thought of those bastards going anywhere near my little girl—”

And you shouldn't.

“—but I can handle it.”

Can Peter?

Deadpool—Wade—reeled in shock on the back of Bea Arthur who looked up and snorted a low, menacing growl. “What?” he demanded.

Can Peter handle you being traumatized by what happened? And Arachne?

“That—you—”

I realize, Wade, that you are the only one in this story that can hear me, but you are _not_ the only one in it.

“So you were protecting _them_ ? Not _me_?”

This may be a foreign concept to you, but I _can_ be protective of my protagonists. And that includes you, by the way, which is why your boxes aren’t here.

“Huh.” Bea Arthur sniffed the air again and pranced in place as Deadpool sat on her back thinking about what the author said. “That said—you did cause me mental anguish.”

You’re not about to heap demands on me are you? Because you are literally riding a movie-style velociraptor that has laser vision, the ability to create a force field, and happens to be carrying four fertile eggs.

“Four WHAT?” Wade looked down at the creature between his legs.

Chill out Wade, they’re not developed enough to be lain yet.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

I haven’t decided if she’s going to get spayed yet, or if she’s going to lay them.

“And when were you going to decide that?”

I thought I’d let the comments decide for me.

Bea Arthur suddenly shifted in an odd, sliding movement as she sniffed the air, tracking an elusive, familiar scent.

“The comments. Well, I’ve been thinking about that story you’re going to write me in.”

I’m writing you in a story now.

“No, no—the new one! The one after this!”

What about it?

“I want you to put smut in it. None of this ‘start affection and then cut away at the last moment crap.’ _That’s_ only good for kids stuff.”

Wade, I don’t write smut. I’ve never written smut; I wouldn't be good at it.

“Then you need practice! Like the priest said to the virgin, ‘It only hurts the first time!’” Wade grinned under his suit. “And you’re smiling!”

I am, actually. That was a good book. Shout out to Mercedes Lackey, one of my favorite published authors.

Bea Arthur growled and suddenly lunched forwards as Wade automatically adjusted to her new gait as she began running and jumping between the rooftops.

“And I want good clothes!”

Meaning…?

“I want a cape! Lined with fur!”

Wade do you even know how impractical that is?

“It’s a fantasy! You can do what you want!”

To a certain extent that is true.

“And no cowboy hats.”

And just what, pray tell, is wrong with a cowboy hat? You wore one not that long ago, if you’ll recall.

“And it was stupid! Come on, there just _happened_ to be a box of cowboy hats in that warehouse? And I just _happened_ to grab a couple?”

Enough. I have had enough. Wade, I wanted to write something _fun_. Something with action. But were you satisfied with that? Oh, no. No, you’re complaining about my taste in FASHION!!

“Your taste _sucks_!”

I’ve had it. I’ve had it. I have had it with you.

“Oh?” Wade’s lips pulled back in a sneer. “And what are you going to do about it?”

I’ll show you what I’m going to do about it.

Suddenly Wade felt a sharp pain in his chest and looked down to see the dart piercing him. The plunger had depressed as it hit pushing the drug into his system. His body felt like lead. He was having trouble holding on to the saddle.

And Wade?

“Wha?” slurred Wade as he blinked rapidly trying to clear his blurring vision.

Betty White is the better Golden Girl!

“You _BI—_ ”

Wade’s world went black and he fell off Bea Arthur. She tried to defend him against the men who attacked—but she was hit with another dart and it knocked her out as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wade gets kidnapped and Bea Arthur gets knocked out.


	53. Chapter 53

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade wakes up trapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So--a short chapter. I just couldn't leave you on a cliff hanger for too long. Sorry--ish.

The first thing Wade felt was pain—which used to be normal, pre-Peter. He was also strapped down to a table which was—frighteningly familiar. For a brief moment he flashed back to the last time he’d been strapped down to a table.

Welcome back Wade.

[Bitch.]

{And what was that about Betty White?}

_Chill_ , Wade told the boxes. _I’m sure the author was just making a point_.

Not really. I honestly think Betty White is the better Golden Girl. Her role was more complex and nuanced that Bea Arthur’s.

_Blasphemy!_

No. Difference of opinion.

Wade sighed and looked around. He could tell that he was still wearing his mask—but that was all of the costume he was wearing. _So, what? You’re going to write a torture scene now?_ He felt it was insanely unfair that he could go through the Hell of torture with this author without also having Heaven moments with Peter in this fic.

Calm down. I don’t write torture anymore. Not since my last beta reader puked and quit.

_I don’t know if that’s comforting or not. Wait—what about Peter and Arachne?_

They’re fine. Both safe at home. They’ve just realized something is wrong, and they’ll be coming for you soon.

[You mean just Peter, right? Because Arachne shouldn't be anywhere near this shit.]

Arachne’s not going anywhere near this until it’s all over.

{I get the feeling you’re dodging the point here…}

The door to the small room opened and Wade turned his head to see two very familiar faces. “Well, if it isn’t shit eating Francis and Miss not-Angel. What a fucking surprise this isn’t.”

Let me tell you a secret that will make this easier for you.

_All ears_.

Angel has an emotional support animal in her purse.

Wade’s eyes turned to the buff woman in shocked surprise.

It’s a teacup poodle. She dyed him pink this month, and he’s wearing a sweater with the Pirate’s logo on it.

Wade burst out laughing. “You?” he wheezed. “Have a _teacup poodle_? As an ESA?” He whooped with laughter.

It gets better. His name is Tiddles.

“And you named him Tiddles!”

Angel went white as the color bleached from her skin. “How the _fuck_ do you know that?” she hissed. Francis grabbed her and hauled her outside the room, shutting the door firmly behind them.

There. That will buy you time. You good?

_You have horrible taste in actresses._

All in the eye of the beholder. Now it’s time to check in on the rest of the gang as they plot to rescue you.


	54. Chapter 54

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arachne and Peter both make plans to rescue Wade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a little shorter, but I think the content is good. All plot related my friends, in this chapter.

Arachne jumped off the love seat, staring at nothing. “I can’t feel Bea Arthur!” she cried. She hadn’t been worried when the dinosaur was being followed—because Wade was with her. Wade could do anything. And she wasn’t worried when they got attacked—because Wade could do anything.

But the part of her that was connected to Bea—was gone. Nothing. Like they’d never been connected. She turned to Peter, eyes wide with fear.

Peter moved quickly. He got them both dressed (she was _not_ parting with her new wings), and over to the Tower. Pepper met them with surprise at the door. “Peter?” she asked, confused. “What’s wrong?”

“Something happened to Wade,” Peter said as he stepped in. He was holding Arachne in his arms and she looked around with wide, frightened eyes as she sucked her thumb. “He was out as Deadpool doing patrols, and something happened.”

“You let Deadpool patrol alone?” demanded Tony as he came into the living room.

“Don’t start.” The two words were both a dire warning and a plea as he set the girl down. Arachne stood close to him and kept one hand on his leg. She wasn’t gripping the pant leg—but she didn’t need to.

Tony sighed. “How do you know something happened?” he asked.

“I can’t feel Bea Arthur,” Arachne whispered as she looked at him.

“You know how Wade bonded with the super secret insane super weapon? Arachne did too,” Peter explained.

“That doesn’t sound good.” Two more people came into the room. Agent Coulson and a blond woman that Arachne didn’t know. The woman smiled at her—but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. Arachne’s hand clenched on Peter’s pants as the woman said, “Hello, Dear. My name is Sharon. Sharon Carter.”

“Arachne,” the little girl offered shyly as she tried to hide behind Peter. Something about the woman was making her shiver—like she was in trouble, like she had when the manor got attacked. She didn’t like the feeling.

“If the two of you are here,” Peter began eyeing the two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents warily.

“Then you know who else is in town,” Coulson finished with a firm nod.

“Francis,” spat Peter with hatred. Arachne looked up at him in surprise. She’d never heard that tone from him before—but she was still safe, because it wasn’t directed at her. It was directed at whoever had Wade.

If Wade was with someone that Peter hated this much—then Wade must be in real trouble, Major trouble. Trouble that he couldn't get out of by himself.

“I’ll have Friday start checking the cameras,” Tony said as he walked out of the room.

Peter took a deep breath and bent to where he was on level with Arachne. “I’m sorry I have to do this to you,” he said with genuine regret, “but I have to send you to stay with Aunt May and her helper for a little while.”

“While you rescue Wade,” said Arachne. She wasn’t sure if she was asking or telling, and from the smile on Peter’s face it didn’t matter.

“While I rescue Wade,” he told her with a smile. “Agent Carter is going to get you there.”

The blond woman frowned. “I really don’t—” Peter stood up and looked at her. She sighed. “Where is Aunt May?” she asked.

“Sunset Retirement,” Peter told her. He turned back to Arachne. “Tony is going to help me find Wade, so that I can rescue him,” he said to the child.

Arachne’s eyes widened. “Tony is?” she asked. Peter nodded and she let Agent Carter take her hand without a fuss as she processed this new information.

“Let’s get you packed first,” Agent Carter said as she gently tugged an unresisting Arachne away from the penthouse.

Tony didn’t like Wade. Wade got hurt when he was with Tony. That meant that Tony wouldn't do everything he could to find Wade. Oh, he might _pretend_ to, especially since Tony seemed to like _Peter—_ but he’d probably be relieved if something happened and Wade couldn't come back. There was something about Tony that was very much like the scary people at the Bad Place, and Arachne simply couldn't trust him to try to find Wade.

But— _Peter_ trusted Tony to find Wade. Peter seemed to know people really, really well and understand what they were thinking—not as well as Wade did, of course, but for an adult he wasn’t bad at it. But—but Tony didn’t like Wade.

The blond woman took Arachne home and told her to pack her things. Arachne nodded and went into her room. She pulled her book bag (a pink one that had a rainbow on it) and stared at it. She could do what Peter wanted her to do and go stay with Aunt May. Safe. Out of the way.

But Tony didn’t like Wade.

And Wade needed to be saved, so he could come home.

Decision made Arachne put her sketchbooks (both the new one and the one she was currently using), her pencils (just her old ones, she left the new ones behind), and a city map that Wade had gotten her (so that even if you _do_ get separated from us Baby Girl, you’ll be able to find your way home again). She put them all in the bag and zipped it up before crawling up the wall and getting into the air vent.

Once, not that long ago, she had crawled the entire air vent space in the apartment building, just to map it out. Wade had been watching her at the time and, when she said what she wanted to do, had told her to be careful and call out if she got in trouble. She didn’t—and now she knew the whole building. She made it outside to the street, and closed her eyes as she remembered where she needed to go before running down the street as fast as she could go.

Tony wasn’t one of Wade’s friends. He had no reason, no incentive to find Wade. But _Arachne_ knew where Wade’s friends were. He’d shown her.

She stopped in front of the brick building and read the plaque outside the door with satisfaction.

_Sister Margaret’s Home for Wayward Girls._


	55. Chapter 55

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Peter plan after they learn that Arachne has slipped away, and unexpected help arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So--another short chapter. Last chapter before bed--I shouldn't even be up right now, but it clawed its way out of me. Enjoy. Comment.

“You _lost_ her?” Coulson demanded into his phone with a shriek.

Tony sighed and rubbed his head. “God,” he groaned. “I’m having flashbacks to when I tried to ground Peter after he moved in. It’s almost impossible to keep track of someone who can literally climb walls—and Arachne’s had a lot of experience escaping.”

“Why would she escape?” Coulson demanded. “She’s been to Aunt May’s, she liked it there—what would possess her to run away.”

“I don’t know,” said Tony irritably. “Maybe she wanted to go by herself. She just doesn’t know that much of the city.” His mind drifted to the one place he was certain she knew—and he snorted. Of course she wouldn't go there—he was sure that Peter had explained to her that it was too dangerous for a child her age to go there.

Coulson turned to his phone. “Well find her, and don’t stop looking until you do!”

He hung up as Pepper came into the room. “I’m going to have Natasha and Bruce bring Brian and Sasha here while you all go out hunting,” she told them. “The more eyes you have on the ground, the better.” She looked between the two men with suspicion. “What’s wrong?” she demanded tartly. Coulson shifted nervously and Tony sighed.

“Pepper, do you remember when that lunatic in the green mask was going to kill Spiderman and I tried to ground Peter.”

“Of course. I told you at the time that—oh, no.” She looked between the two of them, eyes wide. “Oh, no no no. Are you saying what I _think_ you’re saying?”

“Arachne has gone to look for Wade.”

“And Agent Carter is looking for Arachne,” Coulson added.

Pepper pinned him with a glare. “Agent Carter doesn’t stand a snowball’s chance in Hell of finding the child,” she informed him tartly.

“Who would?” asked Tony.

She grimaced. “Peter, maybe?” Before Tony could stop her she called out and Peter, halfway in his suit, moved quickly enough to almost appear next to her. “Where would Arachne go? She ditched the agent.”

Peter closed his eyes. “She’s probably looking for Wade herself,” he said slowly. “I don’t think she trusts Tony to find him.”

“Hey!” Tony said, indignant—and more hurt than he wanted to admit. He’d known the child was wary around him, but to think that he wouldn’t try to find her missing father?

Peter sighed. “It’s not your fault—mostly. Remember when your suit malfunctioned and blew up Wade? Well, we found out something about the lab that day—when they wanted to punish Arachne, they’d torture one of the other children.” He rubbed the point between his eyebrows as he tried to stave off the headache. “We both told her that wasn’t true and wasn’t what happened—but I’m not sure she ever believed us.”

With how well the children had adjusted to their new homes, Tony often forgot where they came from. He forgot that, for most of their lives, they were lab rats. Worth nothing more than the information that could be gleaned from their bodies. It was sickening.

And Arachne thought he was like them.

Pepper went over and gently rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

Peter huffed a laugh. “She’s probably better than we are,” he said wearily. “You have _no_ idea—look, we need more eyes on the ground. Who can we call for help?”

Tony grimaced. “If it was _you_ in trouble—everyone. But for Deadpool—”

Peter’s voice was cold. “No one.”

“Not ‘no one’,” Tony corrected. “Just—no one reliable. There’s always Daredevil—”

Peter frowned. “I thought he was still off in the middle of if-I-tell-you-where-you’ll-have-to-die learning a new martial art.”

“For you, and for Deadpool, he’d come home. He left me his number.”

Peter sighed. “I think that he might be too far away.”

“What about me?” They turned to see Logan, also known as Wolverine, leaning in the doorway. “I heard I might be needed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment please? Thoughts, questions, comments, concerns, comments?


	56. Chapter 56

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arachne gets help to look for Wade, and gains a new nickname.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things: I'm tired. Like, will go to bed soon tired. Only post of the morning, sorry. Second thing: Next chapter is a flashback. Don't worry, it'll make sense later. So, please enjoy. And feel free to comment.

Weasel kept an eye on the bar as he absently cleaned glasses. He really didn’t think they needed to be that clean, not with _this_ clientele, but he wanted a reason to stick around behind the bar and keep an eye on them. He’d already had to replace one pool table this week.

The door opened and he turned to see who was coming in—only to stare as an eerily familiar figure in a pink dancing leotard with wings on her back and a messenger style book bag came in. Alone.

“The—” Weasel bit back the language he’d been about to use as several of the others in the bar turned to see who he was looking at. A pool of silence spread out from the small child. “Kid, where’s your dad?” Weasel demanded.

She threw both arms in the air, looking panicked. “We can’t _find_ him!” she said. She babbled on, still panicked and Weasel, used to Deadpool’s incessant babbling, was able to translate.

Earlier that evening Deadpool got attacked and kidnapped. Peter had gone to his friends for help in finding him—but Peter’s friends weren’t Deadpool’s friends and the child was afraid they weren’t going to really _look_. So, knowing that there was only place Deadpool’s friends were, the child came here. At the end of her speech she began to cry.

Weasel stared at this small child, this little girl. This bar was filled with people that made even hardened agents nervous—and this little girl _trusted_ them. She _trusted_ them to find her missing father.

Domino, Afro slightly swaying with the movement, strode forwards and picked the little girl up, balancing her on a hip for a moment. “Oh, don’t you worry about a thing,” she said as she carried the child over to the bar and sat her down on top of it. “We’ll find Deadpool for you.”

“We will?” asked one of the male mercenaries.

Domino turned to him. “Of course, if you _want_ to lose the only chance you’ll ever have to make _Deadpool_ owe you, that’s up to you.”

The man glared at her and made the mistake of looking at the child. The child, wide brown eyes still glistening with tears that were about to fall at any moment. He dragged his gaze back up to Domino. “Hell yeah,” he said. “Let’s go save Deadpool.”

Domino tousled the little girl’s hair. “Don’t you worry Princess,” she said. “We’ll find your dad for you.”

“Thank you,” the child said in a high, clear voice.

Weasel wasn’t sure about the mercenaries in the bar, but something about those two words, that level of _trust_ , well—it almost broke his heart.

“Weasel,” Domino ordered as she checked her weapons, “man the phones. We’ll do a grid search.”

“I got the docks,” one of the men claimed before leaving.

Andrea sashayed over to the bar and gave the child a hug. Today she was wearing a black and silver dress. “Don’t worry Princess,” she said. “We’ll help look too.”

“Thank you,” Arachne said as the hookers filed out.

Soon the bar was empty except for Weasel and the child. “Well,” said Weasel wearily. “What should we do now?”

“I brought a map.” Arachne pulled a street map out of her bag and laid out on the table. “I thought I could color where people have looked so that we’re not searching the same areas twice.”

“That’s—surprisingly helpful,” Weasel admitted, thinking that the child must take after her mother. He pulled out a bottle and poured himself a drink. “Would you like something to drink?” he asked her.

She carefully smoothed the creases out of the map as she pulled out several pencils and put them in an empty jar for ease of grabbing. “I don’t have any money,” she told him.

He stared at her in shock for a moment. Then he laughed. “I’ll just put it on Deadpool’s tab,” he told her.

She looked up with her wide eyes. “May I have some more pineapple juice please?” she asked.

“Of course.” He pulled a carton of it from the little fridge under the bar. “Bought a brand new one, just in case you came in again.”

“Thank you very much Weasel.” He poured her a glass and the phone rang.

“Yeah?” Weasel asked as she took a sip, carefully set the glass to the side where it was in no danger of being knocked over, and grabbed one of the pencils.

“My area’s clear.” Elektra rattled off the address of a city block. Weasel, knowing there was no reason to ask how she knew what was going on when she hadn’t even _been_ in the bar, passed the information on to Arachne, who found the area and colored it in with swift, sure strokes. “Who are you talking to?” Elektra asked.

Why not? “The little Princess is coloring areas as people report in, to prevent people from checking the same areas twice.”

“Aw! What a Sweetie!” Elektra hung up.

Arachne looked up as Weasel hung up his bar phone. “Elektra says good job with the map,” he told her. She gave a hesitant, worried smile and bent back down, tracing with a finger. He wondered what she was mapping. He was afraid to ask.

Suddenly she stiffened, leaping to the top of the bar stool. “Bea Arthur’s awake!”

“Who’s Bea Arthur?” asked Weasel as he began checking his liquor inventory. Might as well get that done while it was still quiet.

“Wade says she my sister, but we don’t look anything alike,” Arachne said, her eyes unfocused.

“Well,” said Weasel vaguely, “Wade would know.” He didn’t know how much he’d regret saying that later.

Arachne nodded and sat down as her eyes suddenly focused. “She’s on her way here,” she told Weasel. “She’ll be here soon. Is that okay?” she asked. “I can ask her to go somewhere else, if it’s not okay.”

Weasel shrugged. “What’s one more tyke?” he asked facetiously. “It’ll be fine.” She nodded, her eyes unfocused again, and then she grabbed another pencil as the phone rang.

Three more areas of the city checked off and there was an odd scratching at the door. Arachne jumped down from her seat and ran to the door to open it—to a monster. The lizard-like creature was easily nine feet long, had razor sharp conical teeth along its jaw, visible as it snorted, and it’s head kept switching from one side to the other, to watch him with yellow, slit-pupiled eyes.

“Princess?” squeaked Weasel. “Who—” His throat closed and he swallowed hard. “Who is this?”

Arachne reached up to pat the monster’s flank fearlessly. “This is my sister, Bea Arthur.” Suddenly her head whipped to face the monster. “No! You can’t eat Weasel! He’s Wade’s friend.”

Weasel began to sweat. “Yeah,” he said suddenly wishing it was actually true. “Wade’s friend.” The monster tracked him with an odd clicking noise in its throat before stepping forwards.

No, the odd clicking noise was the sound of a thick, curved claw tapping up and down against the floor as it moved. Weasel was so focused on the monster he almost didn’t notice the woman coming in behind it. Almost. Not many drop-dead gorgeous women in the area that held themselves like officials.

“Arachne,” the woman said looking down at the girl, still with a hand on the monster’s flank. “You were supposed to let me take you to your Aunt May’s.”

“We have to find Wade,” Arachne said firmly. She turned and walked to the bar—keeping the monster between her and the woman.

Weasel poured another glass of whiskey and held it up in salute. “Welcome,” he said. “And I am _way_ too sober for this.” He downed his shot and then answered the phone before rattling off another set of coordinates for the little girl. He noticed that the monster stayed between the child and the woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not going to lie; I grinned when I thought of the expression on Weasel's face.


	57. Chapter 57

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback of Spiderman and Deadpool working together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter took an insane amount of time to write. My head is killing me. And it's longer than my usual (hope it can all post at the same time). Please, enjoy reading. :)

Peter watched as Wade paced the room. The older man was nervous and slightly twitchy as he moved. Slowly, Peter was coming to realize that the twitches were the man reacting to the voices in his head, the “boxes” as he called them.

“Please calm down,” Peter urged as Wade paced.

“I can’t—I mean, I shouldn't—shut up! I’m getting there!”

Peter felt a little hurt that the boxes got a full, complete sentence to themselves while all he got was broken grammar. He strode over and quickly grabbed Wade’s shoulders. “It’s okay!” he assured the man—still clearly not all there.

Wade gasped for a moment and then pressed his hands to his face. “I got a job.”

Peter waited. Clearly there was more coming.

Wade began to shift, like he wanted to pace—but he didn’t break away from Peter, who kept his grip light enough that Wade _could_ break away. “It’s in New York.” He rushed on, quickly. “But it’s not a killing job and I know I said I wouldn’t kill in the city but it’s a good job for a friend and there’s no killing involved.” He paused. “I asked.”

Peter nodded. Sure, he knew Wade said he wouldn't kill in the city—and that was good. He also knew that Wade was a mercenary which meant he had to take jobs. He felt certain Deadpool was trying to funnel that money into Peter’s house without the boy knowing. He didn’t see why Wade was so worried about it.

“Do you need help?” he asked as he released Wade’s shoulders.

Wade stared at him for a full minute before suddenly dropping into a crouch with both hands on the back of his head. “Fuuuck,” he breathed. “You don’t—you just don’t know, Baby Boy.” Suddenly, in a lightning change of mood, he jumped back up and grinned. “It’ll be fun!”

Peter grinned back. “Of course,” he said. “You’re always coming along with me, so I’ll come along with you.”

“Woohoo!” Wade danced around Peter towards the door, and then shuffled back to avoid hitting Aunt May as she came in with groceries. “Oh, let me help you with that!” he said.

“You are a dear,” the old woman replied as she handed the bags she was carrying to him. “I have more in the car.”

Peter grinned. “Let me help too,” he said as he went out to the car.

After all the groceries were in and put up Aunt May invited Wade for dinner, and—for the first time since he’d woken up recovering in the house—he declined. “Sorry Aunt May,” he said cheerfully. “Spidey’s going on a job with me and I have to make sure it’s safe.” He twitched slightly. “Of course I know what recon is!” he said suddenly. “I just don’t normally bother!” He bowed, saluted, and then pulled his hood up before dancing out the door.

“Well, you certainly made him happy,” Aunt May commented. She looked at Peter and raised an eyebrow. “A job?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Wade said there’s no killing,” he said, “and I believe him.”

“Hmm.”

 

^^^

 

{Smooth, idiot. That was real smooth.}

[‘Make it safe?’ Just how are we supposed to do that? Just last week the Lizard knocked him off a building!]

“We do the best we can,” Wade said soothingly. It was something Peter had told him on one of their lunch dates.

{ _Date_!}

[Dude, he’s way, _way_ too young.]

“Not like that,” muttered Wade as he walked down the street.

[And why are we working for that bitch, anyway? She tried to kill us!]

“Everyone tries to kill us,” Wade argued.

[She THREW us into a VOLCANO!]

Wade winced as the words echoed against the inside of his skull. “But it wasn’t personal,” he protested.

[The hell it wasn’t!]

{Anyone else curious as to why she came to us? Considering she told us to go to Hell last time we met?}

“We have more skills than she does!”

[The _only_ skill we have that she doesn’t is the skill not to die. Are you sure this is going to be safe for Peter?]

{Aw, relax. She’s also lazy.}

Wade reached his apartment and hauled out his maps of the city. Now, from what she’d said the object he was supposed to be collecting was in _this_ high-security facility. All he had to do was—

There was a rap on the door. Then it turned into a vicious pounding. “Dammit Deadpool!” snarled his roommate. “Open the damn door!”

Curious as to _why_ she needed him to open the door, he did so. His roommate, a pale young woman with hair in multiple colors, was holding one of her shoulders as blood seeped between her fingers. “You look bad,” he commented as she limped into the apartment.

“Don’t start,” she growled as she limped towards the medicine cabinet in the kitchen.

Wade saw odd purple and blue lights dancing in the spilled blood.

[That’s new.]

{Never seen that before. We sure she’s human?}

“Pretty sure she’s not,” murmured Wade as he closed the door.

“What was that?” demanded the angry voice.

“Your blood’s all sparkly!” Wade said cheerfully.

“Yeah? It’ll wear off.” Her voice lowered and she muttered to herself. “Fucking unicorns.”

{Hey look! The room’s brighter!}

Wade nodded as he looked at the literally glowing golden strands of hair next to the young woman’s head. They were the only parts not dyed. “Your hair’s glowing again,” he pointed.

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” muttered the woman as she grabbed a beer with one hand, smashed the neck of the bottle against the counter, and chugged it. She pressed the cool glass to her head. “I miss home.”

“Because of your hair?”

“That too.”

Standing there it occurred to Wade that his roommate was almost as indestructible as he was. “So Carol,” he said.

“Cora,” she corrected firmly. “As in, ‘Coraline.’ As in the other person on this god-forsaken lease.” She angrily tossed her beer bottle towards the trashcan and it hit the wall where it shattered. Most of the glass went into the garbage can. Neither of them really cared to clean up the mess.

[We ever ask where she came from? Because, I think it might be important later.]

{We said we wouldn't ask if she didn’t, so we didn’t.}

“Coraline,” Wade agreed. “I’m going on a job soon.”

“Good for you.” The phone in her pocket rang, she dug it out, and answered with a single word. “No.” She put the phone on the counter. “And?” she asked.

“And Spiderman wants to tag along. There’s no killing involved,” he added.

Coraline sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Deadpool,” she said wearily, “you accepted a job.”

“Yes.”

“In New York City.”

“Yes…”

“What’s the job?”

Wade beamed behind his mask. “Object retrieval!”

Coraline closed her eyes. “Object retrieval,” she repeated.

“Yup!”

“Deadpool, did you seriously ask the spider if he could tag along on one of _your_ jobs—the mostly law-abiding do-anything-to-help-along-the-boys-in-blue spider, I’d like to add—when it involves _stealing_?” She looked at him. “I’m not an expert, but that sounds like a good way to alienate him.”

[She’s right.]

{Oh, my God! What were we _thinking_!}

“Gotta go!” Wade said realizing there was a crap ton of research he had to do.

“Yeah yeah, good luck,” muttered Coraline as she head towards the bathroom, limps already fading.

 

^^^

 

Peter crouched in the corner overlooking the building in front of them as Wade, in full Deadpool regalia, checked an odd little compass on his wrist. “What’s that?” he asked.

“My moral compass. Just making sure I don’t lead you down the wrong path, buddy,” said the mercenary as he put the thing away.

Some of the things the man said made absolutely no sense. “All right,” he said. “So, now that your moral compass is straightened out, what’s the mission.”

“Right. So, my client, my friend, works for these people who had this—thing stolen from them by these people. Now, they called me, instead of the police, because none of them are _supposed_ to have it.”

Peter felt his lips twitch behind his mask. He wasn’t sure if they were twitching in distaste at _stealing_ or amusement at the way Wade was putting the situation. “Let me see if I’ve got this right. A group of people, who were not supposed to have this object—whatever it is—had it stolen by this other group of people, and the first group has hired you to steal it back for them.”

Wade nodded. “That’s it. Contract complete when said object is in her, the contract holder’s hands.”

Peter nodded. He was slightly surprised at the formal phrasing, but Wade _was_ a mercenary. Presumably that meant he had a lot of experience with contracts. “What’s the object?” he asked.

“Some kind of book. She said I can’t miss it.”

“All right.” Peter waited. “How are we getting in?” he asked.

Wade’s head whipped towards him. “What?”

Peter held back a sigh. “Your mission,” he reminded the other man. “Your plans.”

“That is both the single best and most terrifying thing I have ever heard from you,” Wade said softly.

“So, what’s the plan?” asked Peter, both anxious to get started and to keep Wade from thinking too much.

“Plan? Right, plan. Spidey, you’re backup. I want you to stay out of sight as much as possible. These people are sneaky, and I may need super-secret backup to get back out of there.”

Peter nodded. “All right,” he agreed. The two of them went into the building.

Everything seemed normal enough at first. There seemed to be an appropriate number of guards for what was a secret priceless artifact. The security was not quite the best, but appropriate. Pretty much all Peter had to do, as Spiderman, was follow along the ceiling keeping an eye out for surprise attacks. There were a few, and he webbed those would-be attackers to the walls and floors before Deadpool even registered that there was a threat, but nothing major. And Deadpool was very careful not to actually kill any of his attackers, a fact that Peter appreciated.

Before the mission Peter and Aunt May had sat down to have a talk and Peter understood that Deadpool was a mercenary known for killing. Knew it very well, in fact. He had accepted that there might be reasons fro Deadpool would kill on this job—because he was working and it simply might not occur to him to use non-lethal force. He was prepared for that.

When they made it to an inner room, Spiderman still hanging back in the shadows providing silent support, the game changed. On a wooden table was a single, huge book. It was blue. It looked like it was glowing.

Leaning against the table was a woman. She was tall, for a woman (slightly shorter than Wade), was wearing a white dress that looked like a bunch of feathers had been sewed together, and had long, cascading blond hair. “Hello Deadpool,” the woman said in a calm voice. She was holding what looked like a bunch of Popsicle sticks tied into the vague form of a human in one hand. In the other she held what looked like a bloodstained piece of cloth. Just behind her, on the table, was a tall, wide glass of water and a second doll.

Peter’s senses went haywire. This woman, whoever she was, was bad news. Deadpool merely waved cheerfully. “Hi,” he said. “I’ve come to get that book on the table behind you, and once I get it I’ll be on my way since I don’t want to kill anyone in Spiderman’s city.”

The woman chuckled softly and Peter felt the little hairs on the back of his neck raise at the sound. “Oh, yes,” she said as she wrapped the bloodstained piece of cloth around the doll she was holding. “I’ve heard about your little—team up with the human spider.” She moved to where the doll was being dangled over the water. “I’m surprised he isn’t here now.”

Another chill ran over Peter, warning him that something was about to happen. He tensed, not knowing what to expect as he looked around the room desperately for any sign of the danger his senses said was coming. He trusted his senses explicitly.

The woman simply released the doll to where it fell in the water. Wade gasped and choked as Peter stared, not certain what was going on until water began pouring from Wade’s mouth. The man was drowning. The woman dropped the doll into the water and now Wade was drowning.

Peter dropped to grab the doll, to haul it out of the water only to be easily backhanded out of the way by the woman, her nails ripping bits of his suit. “There you are,” the woman said in satisfaction. She smiled at Peter as she pulled a thread from his suit and tied it around the other doll. The merc choked one water as the woman snapped the leg on the doll.

And Peter felt his own leg snap in response before he collapsed to the floor. He gasped as waves of pain rolled over him—but he had fought his way through worse. He’d once swung through the city to catch Norman as Green Goblin with two cracked ribs. _That_ had been bad. _This_ was—still bad, but not quite at those levels yet. He swallowed hard as the woman walked towards him.

“Do you give up, little spider?” asked the woman in a voice that _sounded_ kind, but his senses warned him were anything but.

“Never.” Peter shot webbing at her, and she easily dodged with a laugh.

“You are losing your touch, little spider,” the woman said.

Peter felt his lips widen in a grin. “Am I?” he asked as he yanked on the webbing. The glass fell to the floor. It didn’t break, but the water spilled out.

“Poor little spider,” said the woman sadly as she snapped the other leg. “Just doesn’t know when to quit.” She gasped as suddenly a sword protruded through her stomach.

“Want to bet?” snarled Wade as she fell off the sword, clutching the wound in her abdomen.

A dim part of Peter’s brain that was still functioning noted that it wasn’t a kill move. Even drowning, Wade had held back. As Wade picked him up, Peter webbed the woman to the floor. He also snagged the book with another piece of webbing; no reason to leave it behind. The book sagged as Peter reeled it in. “How heavy _is_ this thing?” he demanded.

Wade glanced at the book. “If I recognize this,” he said absently, “about sixty pounds.”

“ _Sixty pounds_ ?” demanded Peter, his vision graying slightly as Wade moved him. “What exactly _is_ it?”

“I don’t think anyone is really sure. It sort of showed up a few years ago and has been bouncing around private collections ever since.” Wade carefully carried both Peter and the book out of the building. “Shit!” he swore when they were outside. “This was supposed to be a _safe_ mission!”

Peter couldn't help but chuckle. “I don’t think there is a such a thing,” he said. “How many buildings have you been knocked off of?”

“Yeah,” said Wade as he walked. “But that’s me. I heal. I know he does too, but not as fast!”

Peter frowned. He healed both too fast and too slow. Too fast to risk going to a regular doctor and too slow to keep up with Wade.

“Not to worry,” Wade said as he tried to keep his steps even to prevent from jolting the injured spider in his arms, “we’ll just drop off the book-it thing and then I’ll take you back to Aunt May.”

They were a ways down the alley when suddenly the building they’d escaped exploded. Peter stared at the wreckage in horror. “All those people.”

“Not your fault,” Wade said quickly. He sagged. “Mine.”

“Your fault?” Peter frowned as he mentally reviewed the mission. Had the merc planted a bomb or something without Peter noticing? No, he hadn’t. Wouldn’t. “No,” Peter said firmly. “Not _your_ fault, either.” He turned back to the wreckage. “It must have been some kind of self destruct,” he mused.

“Must have,” echoed Wade dully. “Come on,” he said turning and sprinting down the alley. Peter clung to consciousness with all he had. Every step hurt his legs more.

It didn’t take too long for them to reach Wade’s goal. Wade propped Peter (careful about jolting the injured legs) in a shadowed area of the park before taking the book to the swing set. Peter clenched his jaw against unnecessary sounds and worked to set the legs himself. He’d learned that his bones healed faster if they were set as soon as possible.

A woman, dark hair and sensual curves, approached the swing set. “Deadpool,” she purred.

Peter frowned. Used to hearing meaning behind words he read the dark irritation in her voice. Not usually the voice used to greet a friend. He looked up warily as the woman approached. Actually—she _slunk_ more than she approached.

“Ana. You lied to me.” Wade’s voice was hard, cold, and almost unrecognizable.

“About what?” asked the woman, Ana, Peter supposed she was called.

“About the mission,” he said. “Medium security, no powers, that’s what you told me.”

The woman shrugged. “So they hired extra help after I looked into it. Not like you can die,” she added carelessly.

Rage flickered in Peter at the tone. He grit his teeth as he started to understand Wade’s casual attitude towards injury and dying. It took all his will to stay seated where he was and not draw attention to himself.

Wade merely sighed and tossed the book to the woman—who caught it easily. “That’s my friend,” the woman purred.

Peter had heard enough. He got up, barely registering the sharp pains in both legs, and strode over before webbing the book to her hand and the rest of her to the swings. “That,” he said grimly to the woman, “is no way to be. You can’t base ‘friendship’ on favors. That’s not how it works,” he told her before pulling his phone out.

“Spidey, what are you doing?” asked Wade.

“Look, you said the contract was complete when she was holding the book. She’s holding the book. Contract complete,” Peter grumbled as he dialed. “It’s me,” he told the operator. “Came across what looked like a shady deal at the park.” He rattled off the park’s address. “The buyer is webbed. The seller?” He turned to look at Wade and firmly added, “The seller got away.” He looked back at the woman as he slipped the phone back into his pocket. “They’ll be here in twenty minutes,” he told her. He took off quickly.

Wade loped off after him. “Hey, what?” he asked the hero.

Peter stopped for a moment and then looked at the merc. “All right, listen,” he told the man. “If something happened and you _did_ kill someone in the city—we’d still be friends. Granted, we’d be friends with distance because I wouldn't be able to let you stay in the city—but we’d still be friends. It’s _not_ dependent on you doing anything for me.”

The Deadpool mask stared at him for a moment, eerily still. Then he pointed down. “Do you realize you’re walking on broken legs?” he asked.

“What?” Peter looked down and stared as he gently stomped his feet against the ground. “Oh—huh.”

The two continued on their way. “You need to figure out how to do that on purpose,” Wade told him as he locked fingers behind his head.

“I wouldn't even know where to start,” Peter said wearily.

Later, the two men would find out that their mysterious adversary was known as The Witch. They found that out—the same time they found out that there was no female body found in the explosion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, to anyone who knows Nordic mythology, I have just given away Coraline's real identity. For everyone else--it will come. (And no, Coraline isn't really human. And not exactly female, either.)
> 
> And the book--the book is borrowed from an OW of mine called *Barnham's Books*, and has pages made of blue diamond, is bound with loops of thick iron, and the words are pressed onyx. And yes, it weighs sixty pounds. I did the math for what a book that size, of those materials, would weight and that is the number I came up with. And no, the man character wasn't happy about the weight either.


	58. Chapter 58

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wolverine and Spiderman try to track down Deadpool, and find out they have unlikely allies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Yay! A short one! Boo!
> 
> Haha. Yay-boo. Man I'm tired.

“Found the dino,” growled Wolverine as he sniffed the area. He could almost— _almost_ scent Deadpool. It was surprisingly hard to track the mercenary now that he didn’t fire his guns on a regular basis—and took regular showers. Luckily there was a lingering scent of Peter with the mercenary making it slightly easier.

Or it _would_ if Peter, as Spiderman, wasn’t right there. Spiderman’ s own scent was, while downplayed, interfering. Still, Wolverine would never tell the man to leave—because even though he could heal from almost anything it was never wise to antagonize someone missing both child and mate. Especially not when that someone was _also_ related to people that Charles needed to stay on the good side of.

Spiderman ducked down and put a gentle hand on the dinosaur’s flank. It shivered, shuddered—and then the dinosaur flipped itself until it was on its feet. It snorted and looked rapidly around before turning to Spiderman. “Go find Arachne,” Spiderman ordered.

The dinosaur leaned forward, sniffing the each crook of Spiderman’s neck in turn. The costumed hero didn’t even flinch. Then it turned, lifted its head, and let out a huge roar that sent Wolverine into a fighting crouch before the thing turned and trotted off.

“Is it really going off to find Arachne?” asked the agent who’d been tagging along with them.

“I’m not sure,” Spiderman admitted. “I’m not connected to her like Deadpool and Arachne are.”

“Well, if there’s a chance,” muttered the agent before taking off after the dinosaur.

Wolverine pulled out of his crouch and looked between them with narrowed eyes. “I’m not sure which of you scares me more.”

“Don’t think about it too hard,” advised Spiderman. “Can you scent Deadpool, or are the lingering scents of the city too much?”

“The scents are too much,” Wolverine admitted.

“Well,” said Spiderman as he pulled out a phone. “We knew it was a long shot.”

“Who ya callin’ Sugar?” drawled a voice behind him. Wolverine whirled and crouched to look up at—his former teammate.

“Rogue,” he said, not hiding his surprise.

The woman gave him a saucy wink. “Logan. Spiderman. Heard good ol’ DP went missing. Word is everybody wants to find him.”

Spiderman observed her. Wolverine wasn’t sure if the two had ever met before, but all the hero did was ask a question. “Just why does everyone want to find him?”

Rogue chuckled. “Because Sugar,” she said as she strode forward, “the little Princess is looking for her daddy and we all want to help.” She pulled out a phone of her own. “Rogue checking in. My area’s clear.” She rattled off the coordinates. “Oh, I just ran into two lovelies doing a search of their own. I’ll ask where they’ve checked.” She held the phone away from her mouth. “Princess is shading her little map to make sure no one checks the same areas twice. You want to ask what hasn’t been checked?” She handed the phone to Spiderman.

“Thanks, Rogue,” the masked hero said as he took it and spoke.

“A ‘little princess’?” quoted Wolverine as he looked at the woman.

Rogue chuckled softly. “Oh, yes. The little girl came running into one of _the_ most disreputable bars in town and asked all the people in it to help her find her daddy.” She reached over and tweaked Wolverine’s nose with a gloved finger. “And they all rushed out to help her. Even Weasel’s making himself useful, for a change.”

“Good job,” Spiderman said into the phone. “I’ll see if some of the people Tony has out can network with you—I don’t think any of them thought of shading the map like that.” A pause. “Of course he does. Whether or not they’re friends, they _are_ teammates and teammates are like family.” Another pause. “I think this is one of those things that will make more sense when you’re older. Okay. Love you too. Bye.” He hung up and handed the phone to Rogue.

“So you know the Princess too?” asked Rogue casually.

“I do,” admitted Spiderman. “And if that woman thinks she just take the child, well, she’s going to learn that she has more of a bite than anyone suspects.”

“What woman?” asked Wolverine.


	59. Chapter 59

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony, as Iron Man, gets a clue as to the best place to look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another (short) chapter! I'm on a roll!
> 
> (I'm also really tired, so feel free to point out mistakes.)

“Incoming call from Spiderman,” Tony’s suit informed him.

“Take the call,” Tony said.

“Found Arachne,” Spiderman said.

Tony let out a low breath. “Is she okay?” he asked.

Spiderman sounded amused. “She’s fine. Remember how we said we needed more eyes on the ground? She found us some.”

“How?”

“Remember that bar Deadpool took her to?”

“She went _there_ ? _Alone_ ? _At night_?” demanded Tony.

“Oh, looks like someone's going to have a stroke if they keep that up,” said a smooth voice.

Tony looked up and the suit zeroed in on a familiar figure. He sighed. “Domino,” he acknowledged.

Domino jumped down to the rooftop that Iron Man was on. “So, you must be one of Peter’s friends,” she said in her smooth voice as she walked forwards. She smiled at him. “Poor Princess was so upset that Peter’s friends weren’t Wade’s friends and she didn’t think they’d look for him properly.” She pulled a phone and rattled off some coordinates. And paused. “No, but I’ve got one of them right here and I’ll ask.” She looked over at the suited man. “Princess says there’s an area between 34 th  St, 59  th  St, Eighth Avenue, and the Hudson that no one has checked,” the woman continued. “Have any of you checked it.”

Tony frowned. “No, that’s Ma—that’s Daredevil territory.”

“Isn’t he on that training trip learning a new martial art?” asked Spiderman through the suit.

The training trip that would make that area of the city the best place to hide. Matt hadn’t exactly been subtle when he left town. “Checking it now!” he told Peter as his suit ended the call. He turned to Domino. “Would the lovely lady like to ride along?” he asked her gallantly. He felt hope rising in his chest—the sooner they found the insane madman the sooner everything would get back to normal. And a small, selfish part of him hoped that it might help the little girl like him just a bit better.

Domino grinned. “Of course,” she said sweetly.

Tony also resolved to never tell Pepper that he was carrying another woman in his arms. Well, Iron Man’s arms. It felt suspiciously like cheating.

Tony paused in his flight as he passed by a warehouse near the river. Instead of being abandoned this time of night, there was a suspiciously high number of guards. “Call Spiderman,” Tony ordered the suit.

“Calling Spiderman,” the suit said obligingly.

“Hey, I’m down here and I might have found something.”


	60. Chapter 60

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Checking in on Wade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nice thing about short chapters. I can crank more of them out. Enjoy.

Wade groaned as they took  _ another _ blood sample.

[What do they want with all that blood?]

{To see if we’ll die of blood loss? Death’s not permanent for us.}

“Seriously?” he demanded of the buff woman staring vacantly at him as she inserted a needle into his arm. “Are you seriously taking more blood?”

Her lips pursed and she continued with her business with brutal efficiency.  Well, not quite efficient. She ripped his vein partly out of his arm as she pulled the needle out.

Funny thing about your blood in this AU Wade.

Wade heaved a sigh.  _ I’d wondered when you were getting back to us _ , he thought bitterly.

You’re close to being rescued. I just thought you’d like to know  _ why _ they keep taking so much blood.

[Go ahead.]

{Can’t make things worse.}

No, but it might make things better. See, they keep trying to look at your blood under a microscope.

[Isn’t that what labs do with blood?]

{Seems legit.}

Oh, there’s a reason they’re doing it here. Anyway, your blood is lasting just long enough to make it  _ to _ the microscope—only to dissolve into dust as soon as they look through the tubes at it.

_ I assume that’s your work _ . Wade thought about it.  _ I don’t think I’ve seen that in any of my other fics. _

Oh, it gets better. They’re about to realize something else about your blood dust.

Suddenly there was a round of fluid cursing coming from behind the closed door and Wade turned his head with curiosity.  _ Sounds like someone's getting their panties in a twist. _

Well, I’d be a little pissed myself if my multi-hundred dollar microscope was just ruined by the acidic blood dust that I’ve been pouring over it for the last several hours.

The door to the room slammed open and Francis, his eyes glaring balefully at the masked man still helplessly strapped to the table, strode in. “Did you know it would do this?” he demanded.

“Do what?” Wade could pretend innocence.

Francis punched him making his head rock against the restraints.

But not well.

_ Could you give me something  _ useful _ for a change? _

All right. Wade, ask him why he has a Swan Lake costume in the back of his closet.

What more could go wrong? “So, why  _ do _ you have a Swan Lake costume in the back of your closet?” he asked.

Francis glared at him coldly. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he asked.

“Yes, actually. I find I’m pretty curious.”

It’s the costume of Baron von Rothbart.

“Who the hell is Baron von Rothbart?”

The evil sorcerer who curses the female lead into being a swan during the day.

Wade laughed. “So, what? You dress up and pretend to have the power to curse your enemies into being animals?”

A thin, grim smile graces Francis’s face. “Ah,  I know exactly what animal I’d turn  _ you _ into. An ass.”

[An  _ ass _ ?]

{This guy has no imagination.}

Wade burst out laughing. “You already did!” he giggled as Francis turned and walked out of the small room, slamming the door shut behind him.

_ Okay, so was there really a point to that whole exchange? _

You remember our conversation where I said I try to protect my protagonists? This is me keeping you from getting tortured.

Wade stared up at the white tiled ceiling and started trying to see if he could put constallations in the black dots up there.  _ I don’t really believe that you made your beta reader puke. _

You and me both. And  _ I _ had to clean the mess. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get vomit out of a keyboard?

_ That’s disgusting _ .

Yes it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I'm the nerd who actually has more than one favorite ballet.


	61. Chapter 61

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iron Man and Domino find the warehouse where Wade is being kept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one. Last one before bed. Yay, bed.

“So, you think they’ve got Deadpool in there?” asked Domino with a frown as they eyed the building.

“I think it would be far too great a coincidence to find _two_ heavily guarded ‘abandoned’ warehouses even in New York City,” Iron Man told her.

Domino grabbed one of her guns and double checked to make sure it was loaded. She’d checked back at the bar, but she was always careful. Lady Luck may look after her now, but that hasn’t always been the case. “And the rest of the happy crew are on their way?” she asked.

“They’ll be here any minute now,” Iron Man said.

He probably had some fancy gadget in his helmet to tell him exactly where the other capitol-H Heroes were. “Good. Nice to know I’ll have backup.”

“Backup?” asked Iron Man. “What—?”

Before he could finish that sentence Domino walked backwards and then took a running start towards the building in front of her. A perfectly positioned power line was in just the right position to grab. When she did one end separated and it fell—taking her directly to the guards in front of the door. She released the wire and it kept moving until it shocked the men in front of her.

“Hello boys,” she said with a smile.

One of them brought his machine gun up to shoot her. The mechanism jammed and the chamber exploded right into the man’s hand. Domino finished him off with a swift kick to the face as the last guard turned to raise his gun—

Only to be shocked by a ball of light from Iron Man as he landed next to Domino. “We have no idea what it looks like inside,” he man insisted.

“One way to find out,” Domino said smoothly. She gripped the keypad lock—which opened.

“I have _got_ to learn how you girls do that,” Iron Man said as the suit followed her inside.

He said _girls_. As in plural. “Oh?” she asked casually. “You know another girl that can do this?” She grabbed another keypad and the door it locked opened.

“The girl you call ‘Princess’,” Iron Man said as they walked into a lab.

Domino’s breath hitched and she glared through narrowed eyes at the sight. She was far too familiar with labs like this one. She could almost feel the burns again.

A woman in a lab coat with the sleeves rolled up too high to be practical, came towards Domino who automatically ducked the punch and rolled to trip the woman before heaving herself to her feet and tossing the woman across the lab. There was the sound of breaking metal and shattering glass before Domino heard a whimper.

Domino frowned; that wasn’t a _human_ whimper. She stalked through the partially destroyed lab (noticing that she’d somehow managed to knock the other woman out) and saw, struggling to escape a purse, a tiny little dog. The dog was fluffy, pink, and wearing a sweater. She picked the shivering thing up as it whimpered again. “Oh, you poor thing!” she said.

Iron Man stood in front of a door. “Can we focus more on finding Deadpool?” he asked. “You know, _that_ poor thing?”

The dog whimpered again and Domino gently scratched behind its ear. “I think someone's getting cranky,” she told the dog. “Maybe somebody should dye _him_ pink.”

“Please don’t. My fiance might try.” The dog whined in what suspiciously sounded like sympathy as Domino rubbed its ears.

“Poor baby,” Domino crooned. Her fingers found the collar and twisted it so she could read the name tag. “Tiddles. Oh, you poor thing; Mommy Domino will think of a better name for you.”

Iron Man reached out and grabbed the keypad, the same way that he’d seen Domino do it. The keypad squished in his suit’s fingers and there was a hiss of pneumatic air sealing the door. He glared at it.

“Honey, didn’t your fiance tell you you’ve got to be gentle?” Domino asked as she pet the dog in her arms.


	62. Chapter 62

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, back at the bar...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, content rich and dialogue light. Hope you enjoy.

Weasel watched both the girl—who had straddled the counter, glass of juice behind her as she went over the map—and the woman—who was leaning against the bar watching the two of them. The monster that Arachne insisted was her sister, stayed between the two of them. The woman had picked up a thing of toothpicks and was fiddling with them.

Weasel was known for many things. He was a drunkard, he was a coward, and he was an information broker. He was fine with all those labels, since they were true anyway.  He  _ did _ sell information that came across his bar, he  _ did _ drink too much, and he thought a little cowardice was more than justified with his clientele. (Seriously, given all the shit he’d done to Deadpool he was surprised he was still alive.)

However, Weasel would not have survived as the bartender to Sister Margaret’s if he hadn’t developed a certain instinct for danger. A man who walked into a tense situation in  _ this _ bar was not a man with a long life expectancy.  And watching the woman out of the corner of his eye he got the same feeling in his gut that he did when there was a fight about to start in the bar.

The phone rang and Domino checked in. Weasel rattled off the coordinates to the girl and was about to hang up when the child spoke up. “Has anyone checked this area?” She asked pointing to a section of the map. “It’s still clear.”

“Hang on.” Weasel rattled off the request and the streets of the area in question. “ Kay, I’ll tell her.” He hung up the phone and picked up his inventory list again. “Domino says that  she and Iron Man will check it out and they’ll report back as soon as they know.”

“Okay,” said the child as she went over the mostly colored map looking for blank spaces.

“And then I’m taking you to your Aunt May’s,” the woman said.

Weasel couldn't help but notice that her outfit was turning white and that the white areas curled up slightly with an almost feathery look to them.  It didn’t look bad, not at all, and it was kind of sexy the way the feathering bits clung to her figure. It also wasn’t normal—not even for a place like Sister Margaret’s.

The girl didn’t respond, but the monster growled. The woman didn’t flinch. Of course, most of his normal clients wouldn't flinch either.

The girl reached out and the monster thrust its head under her hand for a moment before turning its attention back to the woman, still fiddling with toothpicks.  The girl went back to the map, tracing something. Weasel watched the woman, more of the professional uniform fading. The formal, official stance fading as she slowly went from leaning against the bar to lounging against the bar.

T he phone rang and Weasel answered it putting his inventory back down. “They’re not sure if it’s where Deadpool is, but it looks promising,” Weasel told the girl. She looked up anxiously, but didn’t say anything.

“All right,” the woman said, her voice changing to a smooth, low drawl. “That’s enough.” She tossed a mass of toothpicks into the air and the monster flew up near the ceiling. Neither monster nor toothpicks came down.

Weasel, bartender for one of the most dangerous bars in the entire city, reached over, yanked the child behind the bar and then pulled out his shotgun and unloaded it into the woman’s chest.  As the woman fell backwards both monster and toothpicks fell to the floor. He looked at the woman adding more blood to the already stained floor and shook his head. “I am way too sober for this,” he sad as he poured himself another drink. Then he noticed something. “Princess, what are you doing?” he asked as the child scrambled over the bar and began trying to tie the woman up. “She’s dead.”

The girl turned to him with wide eyes. “She wasn’t last time!” the girl said.

“Wasn’t—right.” Figured there’d be more idiots who couldn't die like Deadpool. “Right.” Weasel grabbed a handful of zip ties and went over to the woman bleeding into the floor before binding her hands behind her back and her feet together. 

The monster rubbed up against Weasel before turning to eat the toothpicks.

Weasel made his way behind the bar and poured himself another drink. “I am  _ way _ too fucking sober for this,” he said as he downed the glass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh I love my days off. I can type so much more.


	63. Chapter 63

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade gets rescued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, thought I posted this earlier. Sorry. Please enjoy!

“God, Francis,” groaned Wade as his jaw relocated itself for the third time. “You hit like a girl!” Another punch, another heal, and Wade reconsidered. “Naw, I know girls that hit harder than you! Ever hear of Black Widow?”

[Not that he’d be able to feel punches.]

{Oh, if he could, maybe he’d be better at hitting.}

“That’s true. Hey Francis, you ever consider that maybe your inability to feel pain hampers your ability to inflict it?”

[That’s a lot of big words.]

{Yeah, well, we no stupid.}

Guys, stop.

“How?” demanded Francis. “Just how do you do it? You’re not smart—”

[Hey!]

{We represent that remark!}

“My husband thinks I’m smart!” Wade protested.

Francis ignored the comment. “The only thing good about you,” he growled, “is your ability to _not die_ and somehow, despite all that, you always manage to _fuck things up_!” Another punch.

As soon as Wade got air in his lungs again he laughed. “Maybe that’s a superpower all by itself!” he joked. “The ability to fuck things up!”

[Maybe Arachne got it too. She seems to be pretty good at derailing plans.]

{If anything, she got all her good points from Peter. Did you even see those photos?}

Francis rained down several more punches and his knuckles began to split and bleed. He ignored them.

“Wait, if my blood is acidic enough to eat through your microscope, shouldn't you rethink the whole mixing your blood with mine thing?” Wade asked as another punch landed—ominously mixing the blood from the cracked, bleeding knuckles to one of the open, bloody wounds in Wade’s stomach.

Not quite as ominous as you make it sound, but I am going somewhere with this.

Before Wade could reply the door was pushed in and Spiderman, a blond mercenary that Wade vaguely remembered from the bar, and the Iron Dick burst in. Iron Man gave Francis a backhanded smack that sent him flying into one of the cement brick walls as Spiderman wrenched the manacles off of Wade and helped the man sit up. “You okay?” he asked.

Wade gasped at the sharp pain of his rib healing itself as he looked at Spiderman. “I’ll heal.”

The masked hero nodded, stood, and turned towards the man on the floor. “Francis,” he said in a cold tone that Wade had _never_ heard from him before, “I thought I told you to stay out of my city.”

Francis laughed, blood and mucus rolling down his face from his broken nose. “What?” he asked with a sneer. “You going to kill me?”

“No.”

The small word held insane amounts of threat out of all proportion to its size. Before anyone in the room could react Spiderman pulled a capped syringe out of his pocket, jammed the needle into Francis’s arm, and injected the substance. Iron Man nodded thoughtfully. “I had wondered what you kept that around for,” he said absently.

Spiderman turned and nodded back. “Yup.” He walked over and slung one of Wade’s arms over his shoulder. “You’re lucky you’re in your undies.”

“Oh, you know this package is reserved for one person’s viewing,” Wade joked as Spiderman helped him out of the room. Behind him he could hear Francis’s breathing become hitched. It almost sounded like the man was in pain. “What did you give him?” Wade asked curiously as they made their way out of the lab.

“A serum that turns off his mutation. Bastard is going to be able to _feel_ for the first time in I don’t know how long. Every bruise, scrape, and especially that broken nose.”

Told you I was going somewhere with that.

“Dr. Conner helped me whip it up,” Spiderman continued. “It’s the same thing that helps him keep from turning into Lizard.”

“Oh.” Wade brought his other arm up to hug his husband. “You are so merciful!” he said happily.

Spiderman snorted. “If I was _that_ merciful,” the hero muttered, “I’d tell him it’s temporary.”

Wade laughed and stumbled as his legs, still healing from their damage, had trouble with his weight for a moment.

_What the fuck? My healing’s all over the place!_

And it gets you in closer to Spiderman for a cuddle. Shut up.

Spiderman took the extra weight with ease and brought an arm around Wade’s waist as they continued walking.

Any complaints now?!

_Nope, all good_.

The blond mercenary caught up with them. “You wouldn't believe it. Mercs scouring the city looking for you— _you—_ because a little girl asked them to.”

{What little girl?}

[Arachne, of course.]

{See! She really _did_ get her good points from Peter! They’re the only ones that would care!}

Spiderman stopped and grabbed a lab coat hanging on a rack. “I know you don’t like it,” he said as he wrapped it around Wade, “but I don’t want people seeing you almost naked.”

“Love really is blind,” muttered the blond mercenary.

“What was that?” demanded Spiderman coldly.

“Nothing. Geez, and we all teamed up to look for and save him,” muttered the man. “Ain’t like any of us are getting paid for this!” They walked out of the door and a little pink bundle flung itself at him.

“You found him, you found him!” changed Arachne as she looked up into the eyes of the big man. “Thank you!” she said with a grin.

The blond man turned an impressive shade of red as he pried the child off him. “Not a problem,” he said as he picked her up and put her near Wade and Spiderman. He cleared his throat and then glared at Wade. “Don’t forget you owe me!” Then he turned and ran off.

Wade grinned under the mask and reached over to ruffle Arachne’s hair. “You are just as terrifying as your father,” he said warmly. She grinned back at him.

“Hello again Princess,” Domino said as she came out—holding a pink teacup poodle with a pirate logo on its sweater.

“Hello Domino,” said Arachne politely. She hugged the woman. “Thank you,” she said again.

Domino winked at both Wade and Spiderman as she pat the girl’s head. “No worries,” she said fondly. “And remember, no matter what anyone else says, you’ll always be our little Princess.” The dog whined and both Arachne and Domino pat it. “Isn’t he just the cutest? I’ll have to change his name.”

“What is it?” asked Arachne, once again alerting her two fathers that there were some _serious_ gaps in her education.

“It’s a dog. Now it’s mine. And,” Domino added, “I’m going to change his name. Tiddles is a stupid name for a dog.”

“It really is,” agreed Wade as he stood there, leaning on his husband while people who had actually cared enough to look for him milled around.

_This sounds awfully like a last chapter._

Don’t worry Wade. I still have one more plot thread to tie up.


	64. Chapter 64

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony, Peter, and Deadpool have a confrontation with The Witch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So--fun fact. I almost didn't post the chapter before this, because I got too wrapped up in writing this one. That's the perils of writing in another program. Still, I got it posted properly and I hope everyone enjoys.

Arachne sat in Deadpool’s lap, holding the Spiderman suit as Peter sat on the couch next to the two of them. She’d refused to let it go. Peter had to get his spare clothes out of the lab to be vaguely presentable. And Deadpool was wearing a quilt that wrapped around every part of him except his head.

Tony sat in the chair closest to them, where he could keep an eye out for the three, and desperately wished that Pepper hadn’t replaced all his whiskey with ginger ale. He looked away from them to the squirming, gagged woman on the rug in front of them. “So,” he said looking at the woman on the rug, “mind telling us who you are?”

A dry, haunting laugh echoed from the woman as she squirmed until she was staring up at him. “You would like to know,” the woman said. “But I’m not going to tell you. Suffice to say, I am The Witch.”

Deadpool chuckled. “I think you got that first letter wrong,” he snickered. Peter gave a gentle nudge with his elbow through the blankets. At least, Tony believed it was a gentle nudge, since Deadpool didn’t actually go flying from the couch.

The woman merely twisted until she was facing the three. Her eyes narrowed in on little Arachne. “If it isn’t the little wall climbing healer,” she purred looking at the child. Deadpool’s arm slid out from under the cover to hug her protectively—but the child looked at the woman without fear.

It was a remarkable change. The girl had gone to be terrified of almost everyone around her (with the exception of Deadpool and Spiderman, for some bizarre reason) to not being afraid of a woman who had almost killed her. He wondered if the others had gone through a similar change, or if it was something peculiar to Arachne.

“I have a question,” Peter asked looking at the woman. At first glance he appeared relaxed—but Tony knew better. Knew from the light way he was sitting that he was ready to leap up at any moment. “How are you not dead?”

“Perhaps I have nine lives.”

Deadpool snorted as the child cuddled into his chest. “I can do better than that. I have infinite lives.”

Peter, with the ease of practice, ignored him. “You attacked our daughter. Twice,” he added.

The woman managed to shrug despite being bound. “There are many people interested in the missing little lab rats,” she said carelessly.

Tony wanted to hurt the woman—but before he could, Arachne spoke up. “We have names now,” she informed the woman firmly. “We’re not experiments any more.”

“You will always be an experiment.” The woman’s voice was cold. “You were made in a lab, created for nothing more than the knowledge that could be gained from taking you apart.”

Deadpool growled and Peter glared at the woman, but Arachne got down off of Deadpool’s lap and crouched next to her, watching her with those wide amber eyes for a moment. “You’re not in a lab now,” she said startling the adults in the room. “You can have a name too.”

Tony looked at the woman again. Was it really possible—?

“There’s no one to give me a name,” the woman hissed at the child.

“So pick your own,” said Arachne. “I did.”

The woman was silent. “Do you really think,” the woman asked in a low voice, “that makes you safe?”

“I’m not scared!” Arachne said. “I’ve got my dads!”

Tony nodded. “She’s got a point. I don’t know if you realize this, but there are entire armies that will leave the field when they see Deadpool coming.”

“That one really nice army left me cake,” said Deadpool happily.

“It was poisoned,” Peter pointed out.

“Yeah, but—can’t die, so—” Deadpool shrugged.

“And Peter can be vicious when he’s pissed,” Tony added thinking of the man still screaming in lockup because he could actually feel for the first time—feel pain, that is. Honestly, Tony had no idea that Peter could be so vindictive.

Deadpool just chuckles and sneaks an arm around Peter before holding the man close. Tony didn’t like seeing the two of them so close (he was still afraid, deep down, that Deadpool was going to snap and try to kill Peter before coming back to his senses), so he turned his attention towards the woman and child. They were staring at each other.

“Do you think they can hold me?” the woman demanded of the child. “There is no place in _this world_ that can hold me!” There was an odd sadness to the tone, like she didn’t _want_ to escape.

If she was from a lab like Arachne, maybe she didn’t. “Fortunately,” Tony said wryly as he searched one of the end tables only to find _another_ bottle of ginger ale, “we’re not limited to this world.”

As if on cue the sliding glass door blew open as wind whipped through the room. Lightning struck around the balcony just as Thor stepped onto it and into the room, hair whipping with the force of the wind. “Good Morning,” he boomed.

Deadpool gave a low whistle. “ _That_ was an impressive entrance.”

Tony looked around at the scattered papers and sighed. “I have got to invest in some paperweights,” he muttered.

Thor strode over to the bound woman on the floor. “Is this the one you told me about?” he asked as he crossed his arms.

“Oh yes. Think Odin would mind if you stashed her in one of your cells?” Tony smiled grimly. “I have it on the utmost authority that there isn’t a cell in this world that will hold her.”

“Odin does indeed owe the Avengers a favor,” Thor said with a nod. “Mother will make sure he remembers.”

Arachne, taking a step closer to her two dads, spoke up. “Is Loki okay?” she asked, eyes wide.

“Loki is lounging in his cell reading books, drinking wine, and complaining that his feet are cold.” Thor’s face twitched in a slight grimace. “Odin has agreed that Loki meant no harm with his—prank, and so is only sentenced to a fortnight of captivity.” Thor looked at the small child. “Would you like to see him?” he asked.

Arachne turned and looked at Peter and Deadpool. Peter smiled. It was difficult to say if Deadpool did, since he was still wearing his mask. “Of course you can,” Peter said gently. “After all, Loki is your—your friend.”

Arachne nodded and turned to Thor. “Yes, please,” she said softly.

“Excellent.” Thor slung the strange woman over his shoulder and held out a hand to Arachne who, before taking it, reached out and grabbed Thor’s hammer.

When Thor’s eyes widened she explained, “So you don’t accidentally forget.”

“I believe this will be a _very_ educational trip,” said Thor before they were surrounded by another gust of wind as lightning once again surrounded the balcony.

Once they were gone, the door sliding shut behind them, Tony opened the bottle of ginger ale. “So,” he said taking a drink and wincing at the taste, “how long do you think it’ll take for Arachne to peel away and Thor to start panicking?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any bets?


	65. Chapter 65

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor takes Arachne to visit Loki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So--short chapter, but the only one before work.

The cells were large rooms, complete with hidden bathing areas, and clear panels that the guards could see through to keep an eye on the prisoners. After depositing the strange woman in one of the empty cells (and then cutting through her binding so she could move), Thor led the child (still holding his hammer) down the halls to where Loki was being held.  The guards (Loki always had several pairs of them when he was incarcerated), choked when they saw the child holding the hammer.

“Thor,” one of them demanded as he stared at the child, “who is this?”

Thor bit back a smile. This reaction was the whole reason he’d allowed the child to hold his hammer for so long. The child looked up with wide eyes and held out a hand. “Hello,” she said politely. “My name is Arachne.”

“Arachne,” the guard repeated flatly, not enlightened in the least. He turned back to Thor.

“She is a friend of Loki’s, and has come to visit him,” Thor explained. 

The guard frowned and Thor knew what the Asgardian was thinking. Loki was forbidden to have visitors (aside from the Royal family)—but the child was holding Mjolnir. Only the worthy could hold the hammer, and the worthy got special treatment.  Arachne nervously pulled her hand back and held the hammer tighter to her chest as the guard stared at her.

The guard turned back to Thor. “How did Loki acquire such a—friend?” he asked, lips curling off his teeth.

Thor honestly hadn’t expected them to so difficult. He opened his mouth to just order the guard aside when the child spoke up. “Agent Coulson introduced us.”

“Coulson.” The guard looked at the child, then at the hammer in the child’s arms. “I see. Well, feel free to pass and don’t try to get him out.”

Thor repressed a smirk. He had heard of Arachne’s uncanny ability to open locked doors—and, truth to tell, didn’t think it would be a  _ bad _ thing if she helped Loki end his incarceration early.  Perhaps the god would go visit his daughter. Thor personally believed that much of Loki’s mischief making adventures would be curtailed if he could visit all of his children. He knew his mother agreed with him.

“Come along,” he said to the child as he strode down the hall to where Loki was.

Once upon a time Loki was kept among the cells with the most dangerous criminals. However, Loki found them entirely too easy to manipulate and he got bored very easily. So now he had his own little cell surrounded by empty ones.

Loki was lounging on the couch that all of the cells had, a pile of books beside him, bare feet (they’d learned the hard way that Loki kept magic in his boots), twitching to a music that only he could hear. Hearing the footsteps he looked up. “Did someone come to visit—hello, Arachne.” Loki sat up and placed the book he had been reading on the pile next to him. He smiled at the child. “How good of you to come and visit me.”

“Hello Loki. Are you doing okay?” asked Arachne.

The god smiled at the little girl. “Quite well, actually. Well, I am slightly bored. You have no idea how hard it is to create a little bit of chaos while in one of these things. I suppose,” he added thoughtfully, “that is the whole point of putting me in here.”

“Perhaps,” agreed Thor reasonably. “Now child, do you mind waiting here while I go report to my father about the cell I just borrowed for Midgard?”

Loki chuckled. “Brother,” he said with humor, “clearly you haven’t heard about the last time this child and I were left alone.”

“Perhaps,” Thor said with a pointed look, “I have heard more than you think.” He turned back to the little girl. “May I have my hammer back now?” he asked. She silently handed it to him. “Now, have a nice visit, and I shall return later.”

The god cheerfully whistled, off tune (according to his human friends he couldn't carry a tune to save his life), as he headed towards the throne room where he knew his father would be.

It was a foolproof plan. No one would expect Arachne to be able to break Loki out—because she was a small child and had the ability to carry Mjolnir. Spending time with the human child would remind Loki of his own daughter, and prompt him to meet the girl. He had no idea why they’d stopped speaking in the first place, not when they’d been so close, but it was a good plan. A sound plan.

What could go wrong?


	66. Chapter 66

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arachne visits Loki, and then gets invited to sit with his and Thor's mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly longer than average chapter. Hope you enjoy it anyway.

Loki hung his head with a smile and a chuckle as Arachne watched Thor leave with confusion. “I don’t understand,” she complained.

“Oh, my dear, dear brother is trying to be Sneaky,” Loki told the girl with a grin. “I want you to know Arachne, that being sneaky is like anything else; if you don’t practice you’re not going to be good at it.”

Arachne pondered that statement. She remembered how hard she had to work, back at the lab, to be stealthy enough just to get to the elevator. She wasn’t sure she could do it now. She nodded. She looked at Loki. “Do you want me to open the door?” she asked.

Loki grinned. “Oh, no. No, my dear brother is planning for me to escape, so I think I shall stay right here,” he told the girl.

That made sense. From what she understood of Loki, he liked doing things that people didn’t expect him to do. So, if he was expected to escape, then he wanted to stay put. She didn’t really understand the mindset, but she could see he had it. Arachne sat in front of the cell. “What do you want to talk about?” she asked.

“How about I tell you about my daughter?” asked Loki with a smile. She grinned and leaned forward, to hear it better. “I haven’t seen her in a long time,” Loki continued, his smile fading. “But,” he added, smile expanding once more, “she’s a queen.”

Arachne’s eyes went wide. “Really?”

“Oh yes. Rules her own kingdom, my little Hel does,” said Loki with satisfaction. And yet—Arachne could tell that he was sad.

“What’s it like?” she asked.

“It’s mostly dark, there isn’t a lot of light. But oh, you should see the stones. She’s got stones in every color of the universe down there, and makes everything out of them. She has a throne that looks like a rainbow and even created an entire garden where the flowers are really jewels.”

“Wow,” breathed Arachne.

Loki nodded. She could see that he was both proud of his daughter—and missed her. “Oh, yes. She can do the most magnificent things. She created a flower that changes color depending on how the light hits it—and it’s completely made of metal.” Arachne’s eyes widened as she leaned forwards more.

“She made her world into one of the most beautiful realms in all the worlds,” Loki said. The smile was both sad and happy.

“Why don’t you see her anymore?” asked Arachne.

Loki’s smile turned grim. “She kicked me out,” he said wryly. “I can’t go back to see her until she lets me back in again.” He shook his head. “I can’t even apologize for what I did,” he said softly, staring into the distance.

“What did you do?” asked Arachne.

Loki laughed, but it wasn’t his normal laugh. This sounded sad, almost like a cry. “Oh, I did something both wonderful and terrible.” He told her. He leaned back against his chair and sighed. “Twice,” he added.

“Excuse me,” said a voice. Arachne turned to see one of the guards. The guard looked at the child with confusion. “Are you Arachne Parker?” he asked.

“Wilson-Parker,” Arachne corrected.

“Oh, so the two of them _did_ get married,” Loki said. “I wondered when they were going to get around to it.”

“Arachne Wilson-Parker,” the guard corrected herself with a nod. “I’m here to take you to see Queen Frigg.”

Loki smiled. “Yes Arachne. Please do tell my mother hello.”

Arachne looked between the two of them and came to a decision. “No,” she said firmly.

Loki looked startled and the guard looked angry. “Why not?” asked Loki.

“You’re lonely!” Arachne protested.

Loki smiled. “My dear child,” he said gently, “being ‘lonely’ is nothing new to me. I shall do what I have always done; lounge, complain, and think up new pranks.”

“What are pranks?” asked Arachne.

“Pranks are tricks you play on a person to make them laugh and make them just a little bit happier—if you do them right.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “It is not always easy to do a prank right, do remember that.”

“Yes Loki,” said Arachne obediently as she stood up. She stopped before leaving with the guard and looked at him again. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.

The next smile was much more genuine. “Absolutely child. Ask my mother to show you the gardens; there’s nothing like them on Earth.”

“Bye Loki,” Arachne said with a wave. “I hope to see you again soon.” Loki just chuckled.

The guard walked with Arachne in silence for a little ways. “So you really are friends with Loki,” the guard commented.

Arachne frowned. “Why is that surprising?” she asked.

“Loki tends to—build a wall, between himself and others,” the guard explained. “Not many are allowed through it to see the person behind it. You seem to be one of them.”

“I like him,” Arachne said. “He’s nice.”

The guard chuckled. “He’s good to those he counts as friends,” the guard said as she led Arachne into a wide room that looked out onto a still river. There was a woman standing in the room wearing a white, column like dress held together at the corners by two gold loops. The guard dropped to one knew. “Majesty,” the guard said, “I have brought her.”

The woman turned and smiled at Arachne and the child was entranced by the green eyes. “Wow, you’re pretty,” Arachne said.

The woman laughed. She held out a hand. “Please, come here Arachne, and tell me all about yourself. I would like to learn more about Loki’s friend.”

“Are you his mother?” asked Arachne with curiosity as she walked closer. The woman took her hand and pulled her onto a couch so that the two of them were both sitting down.

“I am,” the woman said with a smile. It was the same smile that Loki had when he was talking about his daughter, both sad and happy at the same time.

“Oh. But, Loki told me his daughter is a queen and if you’re a queen how can the two of you be queens at the same time?” asked Arachne, trying to understand.

The woman laughed as the guard made an odd choking sound. “Oh,” she said merrily, “Hel has her own kingdom to be the queen of.”

“Oh.” That made sense. They could both be queen at the same time, because they were queens of two different places. “Okay.”

“So, tell me all about yourself. Where do you come from Arachne? How did you meet Loki?”

So, Arachne told her. Told her about the Bad Place and escaping to find Spiderman and Deadpool breaking in. Of being taken in by Peter and Wade, who were married much to Loki’s amusement. Of being left in Agent Coulson’s care and helping Loki escape that prison. Of Loki taking her to see the dwarves and learn about how wings really work. Of the attack on the manor. And she left off with Thor taking the strange woman who had no name (like Arachne used to have no name) into the cells.

By the end of it the woman had an odd, pinched look on her face, around her eyes. “Are you okay?” she asked with concern. “Does your head hurt?”

The woman smiled. “It does,” she agreed. “Do you mind waiting here while I go—go get some medicine?”

“I can wait,” Arachne said. “I can wait _really_ well.”

“Good.” The woman gently tousled Arachne’s hair, like Wade and Peter did and the girl smiled. “I shall be back soon.” She got up and left.

“I hope the medicine works fast,” Arachne said after the woman left.

“Me too,” the guard admitted.

Arachne turned to watch the pattern the wind made in the water of the lake outside the window. “That’s pretty,” she said as the light broke up in the ripples. It moved too much for her to take it into her memory to make again later in her book.

“I thought I heard a familiar voice!” Arachne turned to see someone she hadn’t seen in a while.

“Glamrun!” she said identifying the dwarf. She scrambled from the couch to give him a hug. “Thank you!” she said.

The dwarf grinned and patted her back. “Good to see you wearing your wings!” he said cheerfully. “Tell me, did that god tell you how to use them?” She shook her head and the dwarf sighed. “Of course he didn’t,” he said gloomily. “Well, let me help. Close your eyes.” She did as instructed. “Think about the wind. Can you feel it? Feel it across your face, your back, ruffling your feathers—”

There was an odd rustle sound and she opened her eyes to crane her neck to see—that the wings were twitching. “They’re moving!” she gasped. A little concentration and they gave a single, lazy flap.

“Of course they are,” approved the dwarf with a grin. “They’re supposed to!” He chuckled as she made the wings flap again. “I can’t tell you how great it is that Loki brought you to Svartalfheim,” Glamrun said. “I haven’t seen my wife so excited since she made Hel’s scepter.”

“Hel?” asked Arachne. “You mean, Loki’s daughter?” She looked at Glamrun. She was beginning to get an idea.

“Oh, yes,” said Glamrun with a grin as he lazily stroked his beard. “A wonderful scepter—she can summon anyone in the universe with it,” the dwarf added proudly.

“You can visit her?” asked Arachne eagerly.

“Of course! Hel loves it when we visit.”

In a flash the little girl was next to the dwarf, looking him in the eye. “Can you take _me_ to see her?” she asked.

“No!” said the guard.

“I don’t know why not,” asked Glamrun, ignoring the guard. “That seems like a fine idea!”

“No! It’s a bad idea, a bad idea!” shouted the guard.

Glamrun put his hand on Arachne’s shoulder—and suddenly they were somewhere else. She looked around the dimly lit cavern until her eyes saw the woman sitting on the throne. “Who might you be?” the young woman asked, looking at the child.

“Wow!” said Arachne as her eyes traced the colors. “He was right! Your throne really does look like a rainbow!”


	67. Chapter 67

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hel spends some time with Arachne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late post. The chapter was fighting me, but I finally got it down. Hope you enjoy! :)

Hel watched the child across the table. The girl was still looking around, wide eyed, and rambling. Rambling about how she’d heard all about Hel from Loki.

It had been decades, centuries even, since Hel had banished her father from her realm. She found it difficult to believe the child when she said that, even now, the god spoke about her with fondness and described her realm. And yet—and yet there was something about the child, an innocence, that spoke of her telling nothing but the truth. There was no slyness to her indicate lying.

And Hel wasn’t certain of how to react to it. Glamrun, that traitor, had left the child here. Here, in the realm of the dead that Hel was lord and master over. A _living_ child.

“Okay, so, note to self,” said Baldr as she came into the room, “sequins on the inside of a dress are a bad idea if the person is going to sit down.” The woman stopped and stared at the child at the table.

The child, who then waved. “Hi Coraline!” said the girl happily.

“I see.” Hel turned to the other god. “And is this _your_ doing?” she asked quietly.

Baldr—known as Coraline in the surface world—grinned as she wandered in. “Nope,” she said cheerfully. “But it’s a small universe. I know her dads.”

“And Wade says the mermaid slippers were a crime against nature,” said the child cheerfully.

Baldr sighed. “It would appear that most people agree with him,” she told the child.

“I thought you hated mermaids,” said Hel, confused as Baldr gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“I do. I hate unicorns too, and _those_ slippers are insanely popular. Hello Arachne, how did you get here?” she asked the child.

Hel listened with smugness as the child spun a wild tale—or what _would_ have been a wild tale, if Hel hadn’t known that she was telling the absolute truth. She noticed the odd look on Baldr’s face as the wings on the child’s back lazily flapped again. “What is it?”

“Arachne,” asked Baldr, “where did those wings of yours come from? You were wearing fairy wings last time we met.”

“They got ripped when the school got attacked,” Arachne explained, “and these came from Glamrun.”

“The _dwarf_?”

“Yes. Is that bad?” asked Arachne as she tilted her head to the side, eyes narrowed in thought and concentration.

“Not at all. It’s just that sometimes there are—side effects to using dwarf forged items that they don’t necessarily mention,” Baldr explained.

Arachne got up from the table, took a few steps back, and then began flapping her wings as hard as she could. She managed to _just_ lift herself from the ground before she collapsed and sat there panting. “I have—to get—used to—them,” she panted.

“That might be it,” said Baldr. “So, if I understand right, Thor took you to visit Loki and Glamrun brought you here.”

“Yes,” said Arachne happily. She climbed back into her seat at the table, wings rustling. Each time she used them the movements seemed to become more fluid; more natural. “I wanted to meet Loki’s daughter Hel, and she’s just as pretty as he said she was!”

Baldr grinned. “Your father thinks you’re pretty,” she said to Hel.

“He also said you made a garden with stones in every color of the universe and your throne looks like a rainbow,” Arachne added. Her wings rustled with the last few words and the two gods looked at her. The child frowned. “He also said that the two of you haven’t spoken in a long time and that you won’t let him visit and because he can’t visit he can’t apologize.”

“That is true,” Hel said. “I banished him for something he did.”

The child’s brows screwed up in thought. “Can’t you meet somewhere else?” she asked, with curiosity and puzzlement. “Somewhere that isn’t here?”

Hel sighed. “Child,” she said wearily. “I cannot leave this realm.”

“Why not?” asked the girl, clearly puzzled.

“For the same reason I can’t.” They turned to see a boy, a few years older than the girl, walking towards them. He had dark blond hair and sad blue eyes.

The girl, to Hel’s surprise, lit up. “36-CA!” she said as she ran to him and gave him a hug.

Hel froze at the boy’s former designation. The fact that she used, and used it so casually, had to mean that she was from the same place as the boy. Hel and Baldr exchanged a dark look. They knew about his past, of course, and they were the ones that gave him his new name.

The boy grinned as he hugged Arachne back. “It’s Carl now,” he told her. “And I heard that you’re Arachne.”

The girl grinned. “It means ‘spider’,” she told him. He laughed. He rubbed her hair and then hugged her again. “Come on, Arachne,” he said. “Let my moms talk.”

“I have two dads now,” the girl said cheerfully as he led her away.

Hel leaned back in her chair, unable to stop a bone-deep tremor that hit her. Baldr was right there, holding her as realized just _who_ the child had to be. “It’s all right,” Baldr said soothingly. “It’s all right. Weren’t you listening? She’s happy now. I bet they all are.”

Covering her face Hel began to sob. She remembered the boy when he arrived in her realm, half dead—as she had once been half dead. But no matter how horrible she had felt, she had had two loving parents willing to go through almost anything to help her. These children—they’d had none of that. Her tears ate at the ground around her, but Baldr didn’t leave. Baldr never did.

After a while Hel stopped crying and leaned against Baldr. “Do you know where that child lives?” she asked. “She needs to go home.”

“She does,” agreed Baldr. “And she needs her fathers.” Baldr hugged her gently. “And you need yours,” she said.

“I don’t know,” said Hel clutching Baldr, the person she was closest to. “I don’t know if I can forgive him.”

“What did he do?” asked a clear voice. The two gods looked up to see that the children had returned. Arachne watched with wide, clear eyes that almost glowed a dull amber as she looked at the two of them.

“He’s the reason I’m here,” Baldr explained.

Arachne looked more confused than ever. “You can’t forgive your father because he got you a roommate?” she asked, clearly puzzled. The three people in the room stared at her for a moment before Baldr burst out laughing. The golden god laughed so hard she had to grip the table to keep from falling over.

Carl shook his head. “Only you,” he muttered.

Hel sighed and looked at those around her. Her lips twitched; the child had a point. She held out a hand and the scepter magically formed in her grip. She brought it sharply down on the rock—and Loki, barefoot very surprised, appeared in the middle of the cavern. Hel pointed firmly to the child. “Take _that_ ,” she said grimly _,_ “to its home.” Loki walked over to the child and put a hand on her shoulder. “And Father?” Hel asked. She met her father’s eyes. “You may return. I would—I would like to speak with you, about all these years apart.”

A broad smile crossed Loki’s face. “Of course,” he said warmly. He picked up the little girl. “Up you go,” he said. The two of them vanished.

Baldr hugged Hel. “This is a good thing.”

“It is,” agreed Hel. “A daughter needs her father.”

“Yes, she does.”


	68. Chapter 68

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arachne goes home and we learn something interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only chapter before work. Please enjoy.

Tony Stark stared at the blond, smirking god holding his hammer, glanced at Peter and Deadpool on the couch, and quietly crouched behind a recliner. He felt certain that, between Deadpool and Peter, there was about to be a war on the Asgardian and he didn’t want to be in the center of it. “Friday,” he said quietly, “contact Pepper and Howard and tell them to stay out of the penthouse until this is resolved.”

Friday, using Stark’s smart watch to reply, said, “Yes Mr. Stark.”

“You don’t know where Arachne is,” Peter said flatly.

“Well, not exactly,” admitted Thor.

“I see.” Tony winced. Screaming would have been preferable to the cold, calm voice Peter was using. Tony peered around the chair to look at Deadpool—who was watching Thor as well. Deadpool, who was back in his normal costume of red leather tights, was unreadable—which was unnerving. Normally the mercenary was emotive to the point of annoyance.

“So what happened?” asked Deadpool. “Exactly?”

“I took her to see Loki. I expected,” Thor added with a frown, “that she would open the door and let him out, but when I left Asgard he was still in the cell. Perhaps she had trouble with the magic.”

Tony braced himself for the inevitable explosion.

It never came. “So, where is she now?” asked Peter.

“Well, my Lady Mother requested an audience with her and left her with one of the guards in the bower, next to the lake.” A quick peek around the recliner showed that Peter was frowning. Deadpool was fiddling with his hands, like he missed his guns (that weren’t with his spare uniform). “Glamrun, one of the elder dwarves, was in the palace looking to speak with Odin and he came across the child. They talked about how to make her wings work properly—”

“Her wings?” asked Peter.

Tony couldn't see it, but he bet that Thor nodded. “Oh yes. Dwarves only make things that work. According to the guard their conversation drifted to Loki’s daughter, Hel—”

“Loki has a daughter?”

“Three children, actually,” said Thor. “I’m particularly fond of Fenrir, and I hope his incarceration ends soon. In any event the dwarf mentioned he knew how to get to Helheim, Hel’s realm, and she wanted to go. So he took her. He returned without her an hour later.” Suddenly Thor sounded worried. “I am sure that she is completely safe! Hel is very good with small children, and has many in her realm.”

“What exactly is her realm?”

“One of the realms of the dead.”

Silence. Tony wondered if he would need the suit to survive what was about to happen.

“You let,” said Peter with clear, perfect enunciation, “a dwarf take Arachne, who is a living child, to one of the realms of the dead?”

“Actually, I expected Loki to do it. Arachne is rather like Hel was as a small child, and I thought that this might help mend the rift between the two of them.”

“Can you go get her back?” asked Deadpool, sounding reasonable.

Tony winced. Deadpool only sounded reasonable when he was about to explode.

“No, I have been banished from Helheim. Do not worry,” Thor added. “Hel would not allow something bad to occur to a child in her realm.”

There was a sudden whoosh of dislocated air as two more people appeared. “Arachne!” said Peter and Deadpool at the same time. Tony peered around the recliner to see that Loki had appeared with Arachne in his arms.

“Here you are,” said Loki with a smile as he set the child down. “At home once more, safe and sound.”

“And you can visit Hel!” Arachne responded with a grin as Tony straightened and came around to sit in the recliner.

Loki’s grin widened. “Indeed. It has been quite a while and we will be able to catch up.” He winked at Arachne. “Perhaps I’ll even teach that young friend of yours a few pranks.”

“I don’t think he’d like getting in trouble,” Arachne said.

“Nonsense! All children need to get into a little bit of trouble, otherwise they can’t grow properly. You get into trouble all the time.”

Arachne tilted her head at him, eyes narrowed. “I don’t think we have the same definition of ‘trouble’,” she said after a moment.

Loki rocked back on his feet with a smile and Tony noticed the god was still barefoot. “Perhaps,” he admitted. He put a hand on Thor’s shoulder. “Brother, perhaps you could be so kind as to tell me just where my boots went?” The two disappeared.

Arachne turned. “Look! Look!” she said. The wings on her back began to flap, slowly at first and then picking up speed until she was hovering a few inches off the floor—only to have her collapse, gasping for breath. As the adults stared at her with concern she laughed. “I got higher this time!” she said.

Peter and Deadpool got up off the couch and Peter picked her up and planted a kiss to her forehead. “Well done,” he told her.

“Yeah, soon you’ll be flying through the air with more ease than a trapeze,” added Deadpool before laughing at his own joke.

Tony collapsed as Pepper peeked in when the three of them left. “Is it safe now?” she asked.

“It almost wasn’t. Thor lost Arachne, and somehow Loki saved her,” Tony said as Pepper and Howard came into the room. “They’re all at home—”

“Mr. Stark,” Friday said, “Peter, Arachne, and Mrs. Wilson-Parker are heading back into the tower with an urgent request for Dr. Banner.”

It turned out that the wings had somehow fused themselves to Arachne’s skeleton.

 


	69. Chapter 69

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arachne's First Day at School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, just for Fabytherabbit, Arachne's first day of school. :) Hope everyone enjoys.

Jean Gray, primary school teacher, stared at Charles Xavier. “You must be joking,” she said flatly. Through the open window they could hear the cheery laughter and talking of the day children filing into the school. She heard a group pass by the window—close enough to hear the conversation—and used a stray thought to firmly, but gently, close it.

Charles, bald head gleaming in the lamplight, gave her a twinkly smile. “You know better than that,” he told her as he slid a folder across the desk towards her. Another thought and it sailed through the air and dispensed its contents in front of her. She stared, in shock before turning to him. “She knows how to solve a double variable linear equation but doesn’t know what a _dog_ is?” she asked incredulously. “How do we teach a child like that?”

“The best we can,” Charles said. “Same as with every student.” He chuckled. “It’s true that she has some—odd gaps in her education,” he agreed as she went through the test.

The papers paused in their shuffling. “Charles,” she said warily, “this child knows twelve different types of gun and four types of swords!” A few more pages of the test and the woman paled. “Are you serious? She understands the basic concepts of air pressure aiding flight but doesn’t know what a _duck_ is?”

“She was one of the children rescued from the lab a while back,” Charles said.

Jean rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t explain this.”

“She was adopted by Peter and Wade Wilson-Parker,” the headmaster continued.

Jean paused. Peter Wilson-Parker was one of the forefronts in engineering and had recently been credited with creating an artificial limb with the capacity to link in with a human brain so that it was almost a perfect replica of the missing limb—right down to being able to feel paper cuts. She could see how a man like that would prioritize teaching things like _science and math_ over things like _colors and animals_. It probably didn’t occur to him that the child needed to know.

“Wade is also known as Deadpool,” Charles continued.

And that explained the child’s bizarre knowledge of guns. And probably other weapons. “How is this child still alive?” she demanded going through the things she knew about Deadpool.

Charles smiled. “She has a healing factor.”

Remembering one time Deadpool had decided to “help” the X-Men by walking into the enemy base with a bomb (because it was just easier to kill them all at the same time and I’ll just regenerate and don’t tell Spiderman). Jean groaned. “It must be one Hell of a healing factor,” she muttered.

“Do you remember hearing about that incident when the manor was attacked and everyone was corralled with those inhibitor collars?”

“Of course,” Jean responded absently. “The children are still twitching about it.”

“She was the child that distracted The Witch so that Kitty could get the collar off of Wolverine.”

Jean frowned. She’d heard about that. “The one that got her arm snapped and neck twisted?” she asked.

“That would be the one, yes.”

Jean groaned. Children at that age had a tendency of mimicking the behavior of those around them. “I can’t have my class thinking it’s okay to get injured like that!” she groaned seeing a mass of broken bones in her future.

“Logan doesn’t think it will be a problem.”

Jean rolled her eyes. “Of _course_ he doesn’t; he’s just as bad as Deadpool is.” She sighed. “I better get to my class.”

“Yes. And Jean?” She paused in the door of the office. “I believe she will surprise you,” he said with a grin.

 

^^^

 

“And remember,” Peter said as he helped Arachne adjust her bag around her wings (which rustled anxiously), “the most important thing is to have fun.”

“Okay,” said Arachne obediently.

Wade reached over and gently smoothed the little girl’s hair. For this, her first day of school, he’d given her two pretty little pig tails. And spent almost two hours trying to figure out how to do a hair part before giving up and borrowing Peter’s tablet to look it up. “Your friend Keith is here,” Wade pointed out to the child. “I’m sure the two of you will be in the same class.”

Arachne nodded, but still kept her grip on the pants of both her fathers. “But—you are coming back, right?” she asked looking up at them.

“In nine hours, when classes are released for the day,” Peter assured her.

“Why can’t Bea Arthur go with me?” asked Arachne.

“Bea Arthur,” said Peter. His voice trailed off and he cleared his throat and tried again. “Bea Arthur has different things to learn about.”

“Not really,” sulked Arachne, still not letting go. “She needs to learn how to socialize too.”

“She kind of needs to learn not to eat people first,” Wade muttered.

“She didn’t eat Weasel!”

“He probably would have poisoned her.”

“Arachne,” Peter interjected, “you know how you basically look like a human and Bea Arthur—doesn’t?” She nodded, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Well, the children—the human children—that you’re going to school with don’t have the same healing factor you do. If she makes a mistake with her strength—a mistake _you’re_ not going to make since _you_ know exactly how strong you are—she could easily kill someone.”

“Oh.” Arachne looked at the grass growing under the feet of her two dads. Would they get mad if she called them dad? They seemed okay with it in passing… “So she has to learn to be careful before she can go to school?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Wade. “Really, delicately careful. There’s a reason _I’m_ not allowed in this school.”

“Oh.” Arachne doesn’t look up. “But—you’ll be back? Tonight?”

Peter rubbed her head, careful not to mess up her hair. “We’re not leaving you here to stay overnight,” he told her. She nodded, but still didn’t let go. “Arachne,” he said gently, “it will be okay.”

“Look,” said Wade suddenly, “It’s Kitty!”

Arachne’s head whips around to see the young teen walking towards them again. “Hello! I saw there was some trouble!” She grinned at Arachne. “So, how’s our most recent day student?”

The fabric under Arachne’s hands creaked as it stretched when she clenched her fists. “She’s a little nervous,” Peter said.

Kitty kept her attention on Arachne. “That’s understandable,” she said. “It was pretty intense last time you were here. But look, you’re a day student, right?” The girl nodded. Her grip loosened—slightly. Just enough that the fabric was no longer in danger of tearing. “That means you get the best part of the day,” the older girl continued. “You can go home and tell your parents all about what you did today!”

“And we’ll always listen,” Wade added.

Arachne nodded and her grip loosened—just a little bit more. Peter bent down. “Hey, you remember your field trips?” he asked. She nodded with wide yes. “Pretend school is a field trip! And you can’t go,” he added, “if you stay here.”

“Okay.” Arachne gently released the two pants and Wade gave her a hug—around the wings, because they were still sensitive.

“And the manor just got invaded,” Wade said cheerfully. “It’s not due for another one for, like, another half-season at best.”

Kitty glared at him but Arachne grinned. She gripped the strap of her bag, clearly still nervous, and tried to smile at them. Peter rubbed her head again. “It’s going to be great,” he told her.

“And, just for your first day of school, I’ll make pancakes for dinner tonight!” said Wade cheerfully.

“I thought I was making enchiladas.”

“What? No, pancakes are a comfort food.”

“Pancakes have too much sugar before bed.”

The familiar, gentle bickering releases an unseen knot in Arachne’s chest. “I’ll see you later,” she said hesitantly. Then, because they’d have hours to think about it, she added, “Dad, Papa.” Then she flushed, whirled, and ran onto campus while Kitty snickered.

 

^^^

 

On the way into the building Arachne hears something interesting. “It’s _because_ everyone is still upset!” a voice said. Curious, she turns and follows a thin, almost invisible path through the underbrush and into a clearing just big enough for the people in it. She has to stay in the path as she watches the older children talking. To her surprise, Keith is also there.

Keith sees her. “Arachne, what do you think?” he asked.

“About what?” asked Arachne quizzically. She hadn’t heard enough of the conversation to know what they were talking about.

One of the girls jerks a thumb at one of the boys. “This idiot,” she growled, “wants to pull a prank on the other students.”

The boy in question flushed. “Look,” he argued hotly, “everyone is still upset. They’re all walking on eggshells and jumping at shadows! They need something _fun_!”

Arachne thought about it. “My friend Loki,” she said slowly, “says a prank is something you do to someone to make them smile and feel a little bit happier, if it’s done right.”

“Really?” asked Keith as he pushed up his glasses, sounding intrigued.

“And that’s what I want to do!” protested the boy. “I want to make people smile again.”

“By filling the pool with pudding they won’t be able to eat?” demanded the girl.

Arachne settled back and thought. Make people happy. What made people happy? What made her happy? Well, there was always food, but she didn’t think that food would be quite special enough. Her wings rustled and she suddenly realized something that could make a lot of people happy. “I have an idea!” she said excitedly. Then she paused. “We need Howard,” she said.

“Howard?”

“Howard Stark. He’s also coming to class today and if anyone can figure out how to make it work, it will be Howard.”

 

^^^

 

They didn’t manage to track him down until lunch. At first Howard thought of all the reasons why it wouldn't work—and then he was intrigued. He got a couple of his classmates together and they all helped prepare for the prank.

 

^^^

 

“Arachne,” said Keith as he twisted his hands into his shirt while watching the bubble take one of their classmates into the air, “I don’t think we thought this through.”

Arachne launched herself into the air and caught the bubble with a web strand. “Got it!” she said as the child inside looked around with wide eyes at the ground.

It was far too quiet. She shouldn't have been able to hear the soft, “Um,” that came from Keith and she looked down to see that more children were stepping into the bubble maker.

“Uh-oh,” said Arachne.

 

^^^

 

Peter kept his face even and still despite the fact that he wanted to howl with laughter. He glanced at Arachne, who was fidgeting nervously, wings rustling as they shifted position on her back. He looked back at Charles Xavier, headmaster of the school that was named after him, and asked, “She did what?”

The corners of Xavier’s lips twitched in a manner that suggested he was holding back a smile as well. The red-haired teacher to his left, however, looked much less amused. “She helped set up a prank that put several students in danger,” the woman said tersely.

“I didn’t _mean_ to!” protested Arachne.

Peter turned to the distraught child. “What did you mean to do, Arachne?”

The child fidgeted. “I wanted to make people smile!” she said.

“They are now,” said the old, bald man.

The teacher glared at him. “Arachne,” she said firmly, “what you did was irresponsible and put many children in danger.”

Wade, in full Deadpool garb, stepped between the teacher and the child, who was shrinking in on herself. She hadn’t yet put her thumb back in her mouth, but they were sure it wasn’t far off. “It’s okay. Tell me what you thought would make people smile.”

“Flying,” answered Arachne with wide, frightened eyes. “I thought they’d smile if they could fly, but people don’t all have wings that work so I thought of—of someone who could help and he used my webbing to make these big bubbles that would form around the students so they could float up in the air—like flying but without the work—but they didn’t stop floating. And I helped get them down!” added Arachne firmly. She cringed in on herself again.

Her cohort in crime had to be Howard, Peter mused to himself. No one else would have the ability to chemically change the webbing in order to create bubbles. “How were they supposed to breathe through the bubbles?” asked Peter with curiosity.

“They weren’t supposed to last!” complained Arachne. “They were just supposed to be fun.” She wilted slightly.

“Well,” said Peter, still suppressing a grin, “now that you’re old enough to know how to play pranks,” and he saw many more coming in the future—how could she not, with Wade as both an example and part of her very genetic makeup—he said as he got down next her, “you’re also old enough to learn the most important part of pulling a prank.”

“What’s that?”

Peter honestly wasn’t sure if the question came from Arachne or Wade, so his answer was for both of them. “You clean up the mess made by the prank,” Peter said firmly. “Your web sticks to everything.”

“Yeah, but so does yours,” Wade pointed out.

“ _Mine_ dissolves,” Peter told him firmly. “Arachne’s doesn’t—as far as we know.” He could tell the teacher was paying close attention to the conversation and maybe connecting dots he didn’t want connected—but he didn’t care. She wouldn't have been a teacher at _this_ school if she didn’t know how to keep information from going further than her desk.

“That’s true,” Arachne said, relaxing.

Suddenly Peter realized why. This was the first time, in the whole time that they’d had the child, that she’d done anything that could get her in trouble. (Alright, the second one, but the first time she’d just been worried for Wade.) She still didn’t know what being in trouble meant or if it meant that they’d retract their love from her. Peter reached out and ruffled her hair (mussed up with twigs caught in the braids now). The pairs of eyes met and her widened as she realized what he realized.

“And what about the children?” demanded the teacher.

A peal of laughter crashed through the closed window and Wade shrugged. “They don’t sound traumatized to me,” he said.

Arachne and Peter glanced at each other and exchanged matching grins. They’d never talk about what they just realized about each other—but they’d never forget it either. “All right,” said Peter making shooing motions. “Time to go start cleaning. We’ll help this time,” he told the little girl, “but next time you’re on your own.” The girl grinned and scampered off as Wade skipped down the hall beside her.

“By the way Peter,” said Xavier, “I wanted to ask where those wings of hers came from.”

The teacher nodded, lips tersely pressed together. “She actually _flew_ into the air,” the woman said. “I need to know what my students can do before I can plan lessons.” She sighed took a deep breath and added, “And you need to start her on color and animal recognition lessons. She doesn’t know what a cow is! Or a dog!”

Peter thought back and realized—it had just never come up. “I’m sure we’ll think of something,” he said before leaving to join his family in cleaning up.

There were deflated balls of webbing on the trees, on part of the house, and on the ground. “And then I realized,” Arachne was telling Wade as he came on the two of them balling up one of the things, “that we never figured out how to keep them from going too high! And I tried to catch them all, I really did, and Miss Gray used her power—I think Keith said it was te-le-kin-es-is—and we got them all down. But they did smile—until Miss Gray yelled at us.” The girl sighed. “But my classmates don’t look scared, anymore.”

“It’s good that they’re not scared any more,” said Wade as he lobbed one of the webbing balls into a trashcan. “He shoots—he scores!” he intoned in a deep voice. “Still, you could have accidentally made things a lot worse,” Wade told the girl as they started on another one. Peter kept to his place behind them, eavesdropping on the conversation.

“How?” asked Arachne.

“Well, some people are afraid of heights,” Wade explained. The child gasped. “Oh, yes. And if you’d caught someone afraid of heights on top of what already happened—well, you could have hurt them bad.”

“I—I didn’t think of that.”

“Just keep it in mind for next time. You know, when I first started teaming up with Spidey he used to tell me that it’s okay to make mistakes as long as you try to learn from them. Learn what went wrong. So, learn—that sometimes people are scared of strange things.”

“Okay.” Arachne sounded much happier.

Peter mentally foresaw a future with a lot of parent-teacher meetings and meetings in the principal’s office. He was okay with that. After all, it was part of growing up.


	70. Epilogue 1

[That’s seriously too much skin.]

{We can’t let our baby girl go out like _that_!}

“Just a little more,” Wade said as he pulled a dark purple, see-through not-coat thing out of the girl’s closet and draped it around her bare shoulders, covering up the way too much skin that was showing.

[What idiot designed a spaghetti strap dress?]

{We should seriously look the man up and kill him.}

“What’s this for?” asked Arachne as she draped it more fetchingly over the long pink satin dress she was wearing. Her wings rustled slightly under it and she looked at the mirror with narrowed eyes as she gazed at her reflection.

Time had darkened her hair to deep brown, and she still wore it long. Now it was swept up in an artistically messy bun on her head, thin strands falling to frame her face. She was the same height as Peter and just as thin—and ate just as much for her high metabolism. Her eyes were just as wide, but now they tended to be bright with wonder, love, and admiration. And, at moments like these, light irritation.

“Just something to keep flies at bay,” Wade told his daughter firmly.

The amber eyes, a striking match for Peter’s, rolled in the mirror. “Dad, I can juggle I-beams blindfolded. I think I can handle myself if my date gets a little handsy.”

“You shouldn't have to!” Wade protested. Years of having Arachne draw his best sides had made him less self-conscious. Now, instead of wearing the suit almost all the time he wasn’t at home, he only wore it for missions.

[Besides, she likes drawing Wade better than Deadpool.]

{I don’t know about that—she still has that one piece of us killing that science lady on her wall.}

“I’m going to the prom with Keith,” Arachne said, amusement in her voice, “not some nameless guy you’ve never met.”

“That’s true,” admitted Wade as he walked down the hall with her.

[The best thing about Keith is that we know where he lives.]

{And that his guardians will understand if we have to have a “talk” with him later.}

The walls of the hall were filled with pictures and drawings. Peter’s pictures of the three of them. Arachne’s drawings of the same. It was a hallway filled with light and laughter, and he couldn't suppress a bubbly feeling at the way he and Peter had managed to raise the scared child into the confident young woman she now was. Even if same confidence would have led him to rip his hair out if he still had any.

“Just remember,” Peter was telling the young man at the door, “that we know the Avengers which means there is nowhere in the _universe_ for you to hide if you don’t treat our little girl with the respect she deserves.”

“Papa!” cried Arachne as she strode forwards.

{Just how does she walk in those heels?}

[Practice, I guess. She’s been wearing them for years now.]

Peter turned and, without missing a beat, he gave Arachne a kiss on the cheek. “It’s traditional Arachne,” he assured her.

“It’s unnecessary,” Arachne argued.

Keith, in his slightly over sized tux and thick glasses that kept sliding down his nose, cleared his throat. The tux was a dark blue that complimented Arachne’s own dress. “You look—” he croaked. He glanced at Peter, cleared his throat, and said, “You look great.”

Arachne grinned at him. “You too,” she said to her childhood friend, now boyfriend.

“Okay,” said Peter getting his camera (he refused to upgrade the equipment), ready. “Time for pictures.” Peter got a picture of Keith giving Arachne a corsage, and another one of the two standing close, shoulders pressed together, heads touching, while they held hands.

[That looks adorable.]

{He’s touching our little girl! Kill him!}

Wade ignored both of them.

After the obligatory pictures the two turned and left with gentle waves and smiles that were just for each other. “You realize,” Wade said into the silence after the door had closed, “that our baby girl is going out there to lose her virginity.”

Peter sighed and gently set the camera on one of the tables scattered throughout the condo. “I realize,” he said with an arching of his eyebrow, “that we are alone for the first time in _months_.” He turned and grinned at his husband. “And I,” he said delicately tracing a trail on Wade’s forearm, “am feeling neglected.”

Wade grinned and picked his husband up. “Can’t have that,” he muttered as they made their way to the bedroom.

 

_Wait, what? Are you seriously stopping_ here _?_

Alright Wade. Just for you, one more chapter.


	71. Epilogue 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The very last of the story. No more chapters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, last post, on to something new! Hope everyone enjoyed! :)

Arachne and Keith swayed slowly to the soft tones of the music in the converted gym floor. Paper streamers announced it was _Magic Moonlight Night_ , and several pairs of students were on the floor. More were at the round tables designed for groups or at the long tables laden with food. Several teachers with telepathy were manning the tables to make sure no one spiked the drinks—not that alcohol would affect half the students, with their metabolisms. Bea Arthur, the creature that Arachne still, to this day, thought of as her sister, lounged in what appeared to be a giant dog bed, her thick reptilian tail lazily swaying to the beat as she kept an eye on all the students.

“It’s so weird,” Keith said as they slowly turned. “To think that this is our last year.”

Arachne leaned her head into his chest and giggled. “You think any of the others are up to taking our pranking titles when we graduate?” she teased.

His lips quirked up. “I don’t think they stand a chance,” he told her. He pulled her closer, leaned in next to her ear as though he was whispering something just for the two of them, and asked, “Anything planned for tonight?”

Arachne laughed, tilted her head up, and whispered into his neck, “Not from me, but I have it on good authority that we should avoid the cake.” He shivered under her touch and she tilted her head up just a little more—

An all too familiar alarm sounded through the gym. Students broke apart, leaped up, and glared at the teachers on duty. “Really?” demanded Sasha irritably as Wolverine, in his classic yellow tights, strode up.

“Really,” he said firmly. “You all know the drill children,” he scolded them.

“Serious downside to this school,” Keith grumbled as they head to the locker rooms where they kept their uniforms. Arachne merely growled in agreement as she stripped and slipped on the thin body armor she’d had since she was a small child. Like Thor had told her, it grew with her.

“Can’t the old man get a life?” complained Brian as they got into the same shuttle.

“He did,” Arachne said with dry humor. “He got ours.” Instead of strapping in like the others (pressing into a seat hurt her wings), she grabbed a stabilizing pole that had been installed after she started going on regular missions.

Krystal, Brian’s girlfriend, rolled her eyes as she strapped in. “He needs his own,” she said.

“So,” said Howard as he boarded the shuttle and strapped in himself, “anyone know what the threat is this time?”

Kitty, getting on the plane in her official uniform, strapped in as well. “More of those killer bots in New York,” she said.

Arachne sighed. “All the cities on the planet,” she muttered, “and only the same three keep getting attacked.”

“What does Wade call it?” asked Keith. For the mission he’d traded his glasses for goggles that were more secure.

“Bad writing,” Arachne quipped as the jet took off. Like the others she put on the ear piece that would allow them to communicate with each other.

“Wade is insane,” Brian commented.

“Well, you’re not exactly sanity’s poster child either,” Arachne snapped back.

“And we’re touching down!” someone yelled over the monitor. “Remember, priority one is civilian protection! Two is containment! Three—”

“Try not to break anything,” chorused the students in the shuttle as it bumped to a landing. The hatch opened.

There were hordes of robots that looked like skeletons without skulls. Arachne, as the only one who wasn’t strapped in, was the first out of the hatch. Her communicator crackled to life as Bea Arthur lunged past her, snapping into the bots with irritation at the lack of fresh, warm blood. “Civilian in peril, three o’clock,” snapped the voice.

Arachne’s head turned and she saw two of the robots seemed to be trying to abduct a woman. “Got it,” she said as she sped towards the scene, using her wings to give her a boost. The bots exploded when they were punched and black goo flew everywhere. She tapped the communicator. “Let the others know these things are juicy,” she said to Sasha as she grabbed the woman and helped usher her to the sidelines, away from where others were fighting. A loud, booming roar echoed around the street as a familiar green blur barreled past.

“Princess, above you!” Arachne’s head whipped up to see that one of the windows in the skyscraper above her had burst and there were people hanging out of it.

“On it!” she said as she leaped into the sky, wings flapping.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, despite the lives hanging in the balance, for one glorious moment she focused on this, the fact that she _could_ leap into the air with it whistling around her. She could feel the wind rustling through her feathers, harshly brushing past her face, and pushing back her hair. She hovered, for a moment right beside the people desperately hanging in the window.

“Princess!” one of them said, recognizing the armor—or possibly the wings. Not a lot of heroes with wings.

“I realize the song is ‘Raining Men’,” Arachne joked as she helped them back into the building, “but that doesn’t mean you should try.”

One of the men grinned at her. “But how else should we show love for Valentine’s Day?”

“Buy some roses,” advised Arachne as she pushed the last of them into the building. Another explosion occurred behind her and she added, “Get out as fast as you can. Take the stairs!” she ordered as she saw them automatically head to the elevator.

“This is the thirtieth floor!”

“If I can fly it, you can walk it!” Arachne pushed off from the building and saw another two hanging from a window. Same floor, same building. She flew over to help them.

“Princess, there’s a machine that created a portal these suckers are coming from,” said Sasha curtly.

“Little busy,” Arachne grunted as she pushed the two into the building and gave them the same advice she’d given the previous group.

“It’s locked!”

Senses tingled and she rolled as something—that looked like a pink blob—hit the building where she’d been and exploded sending her dropping until she could get her wings in position over her. “Can’t someone else open it?” she demanded as she turned to face another headless bot with a sack of the pink blobs. It threw another one at her. Not wanting to risk the civilians behind her, she grabbed it out of the air—only to have it blow her hand off. “FUCKING HELL!” she swore as she forced her hand to regrow. Another burst of pain and she once more had two, functioning hands.

The bot held up two more blobs, one in each “hand.” “Can I get some help up here?” Arachne demanded.

“Everyone’s busy. You’re on your own. Get the portal shut down.”

“Little busy!” Arachne dodged more of the blobs as she swooped on the bot. She slid herself between the bot and the building it was on and shoved it off, grabbing the bag of pink blobs. She looked into the bag—and a pair of wide, blue eyes blinked slowly at her. Her heart melted. “Aw,” she cooed. “Aren’t you just the cutest little things?”

“Do you mind Princess?” snarled Sasha into the communicator.

Arachne webbed the bag of blobs to the platform so that it couldn't be blown or accidentally fall off. “I’ll be right back,” she told the things. “Sasha, where is it?” Sasha rattled off an address and Arachne flew down the street until she reached it. Even without the address, with a birds-eye view of the city, it was disturbingly easy to spot. Bots, waves of them, were pouring out of a single spot. One side was empty street, the next was marching bots.

“Oh! Good band name,” Arachne said as she quickly picked the lock and shut down the portal. “Marching bots! That should be the name of Travis’s band.” She picked up a fallen iron bar and slammed down on several of the bots near her.

“Seriously?” snarled Sasha. “You’re bringing that up _now_?”

“Arachne, we _are_ in the middle of a crisis,” said Kitty, their mentor.

A ripple in the air became Keith as he destroyed several more of the things. “When are we ever _not_ in the middle of a crisis?” asked Arachne as she nodded with approval at Keith’s destruction.

Hours later all of the bots had been destroyed, Arachne had rescued the bag of little pink blobs, and the students stared at the lightening sky. “I,” Brian proclaimed to the world, “am starving.”

“And _someone_ gave me his credit card,” sang out Howard.

“What’s open?”

Arachne gave a tired grin. “I know a place.” A few minutes later saw the seven of them trooping into a pizza place called _Hello Morning_. “Hey Andrea,” Arachne said wearily as they walked in.

The hooker-turned-small-business-woman looked up from her books and grinned. “Princess!” she said as she jumped up and hugged the girl—mindful of the wings. “Were you lot out saving the world again?”

Arachne hugged her back, careful of the bag. “Not the whole world,” she said. “Just the city. And there’s a bit of mess left.”

Andrea snorted and called out. “Marcus! We got customers!” She grinned at the low level cursing and thumping as she turned to smile at her favorite customer. “Trust me, the city will heal as long as it’s allowed to,” she told the heroes. “Now, sit!” she ordered shooing them to tables. They stumbled, half exhausted.

“What does this place have to drink?” asked Krystal, sounding half asleep as they made it to a booth.

“Seven kinds of juice, Pepsi sodas, and unsweet tea,” Arachne said as she sat down. She set the bag down and the little blobs bounced slightly in their bag. Fearlessly, she put her hand in and several thin tendrils swept over her skin. They didn’t even hurt. “Aw,” she said again.

“I couldn't help but notice that there’s dirt in your wings,” said Keith. “I’ll clean them for you.”

She gave him a real smile and changed position in the booth so that he had access. “Thanks,” she said wearily.

Andrea brought them drinks. “Drinks are on the house,” she told them as she turned on the television and allowed the news to speak so they wouldn't have to. It was not their first time in _Hello Morning._ It probably wouldn’t be the last.

“While there might be a lot of property damage due to the attack,” one of the news anchors droned on as they shifted so that bruises wouldn't be coming into contact with the wooden benches, “No one died.”

The weary young heroes gave a low cheer and clinked plastic cups together at the announcement while Marcus put pizzas in the ovens for them.

“And so,” said one of the news anchors as the teens half dozed, waiting for their food, “I think we should all be thankful that we have a second generation in our hero dynasty.”

 

_This isn’t what I meant._

Tough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case it was confusing, Princess is Arachne's hero name.

**Author's Note:**

> Is this looking interesting? Please comment.


End file.
